Not Again
by Mklaihai
Summary: **ON HIATUS, BUT NOT ABANDONED** What starts out as an ordinary - and boring - hiking trip turns into a life and death situation when Steve is shot by a sniper, who is targeting Danny. And to make matters worse, it's about to storm. Can Kono and Chin find them before it's too late? (Steve whump, slight Danny whump, team angst.)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I have struggled writing this story more so than with any other story I've ever written. I had an idea that was much different than this, but over the course of writing, it changed bit by bit. I've written, re-written, erased, and started over about 3 times, and I'm still not 100% happy with it, but I figured if I waited until I was, it would never be posted. I'm not exactly sure when it's supposed to take place; if you look closely, you'll recognize references from Seasons 1, 2 and 4, but I guess it's set in season 4, before Amber. It's still a work in progress, but I'll post when I can. Please review! They speed up my writing. ;)_

**Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Hawaii Five-0. **

* * *

"You know, Steven, I don't think I will ever understand why you think climbing these hideous mountains is good exercise. In my opinion it is strange and unusual punishment. I mean, why don't you just go for a run along the beach like a normal person who lives in Hawaii? You know, white sands, clear blue waters, bare feet in the sand. Get a dog. Take a run. Go for a swim." Huffing heavily, Danny Williams bent over, and placed his hands on his knees, out of breath. He wiped sweat dramatically off his face, and held out his damp hand for Steve Mcgarrett to see as the tall ex-SEAL turned around to wait for his friend; Danny glared at the taller man as he took in his friend's relaxed manner, and calm, even breathing. Even though his gray t-shirt was damp with sweat, Steve wasn't even out of breath, and Danny frowned in annoyance at the man's exasperatingly un-human endurance. "See this? This is unhealthy."

Danny Williams and Steve Mcgarrett were hiking in the Ko'olau Mountain range in O'Ahu; it was one of the rare Saturdays when no cases were tying up all the detectives' free time, and Steve had suggested that they take a climb up the mountain. For once, eager to escape the mounds of paperwork that would no doubt be left to anyone who didn't already have previous engagements, Danny had reluctantly agreed; his decision had been re-inforced after Steve had promised to 'buy' the next time they got food, but now, the short detective was regretting ever agreeing to the escapade. Even in the shade of the tall, towering trees, in the middle of the jungle, the humidity was at 100% and the air was as thick as pea soup. And as usual, Danny was complaining.

"It's not unhealthy, Danno," Steve grinned, taking in his partner's flushed face with a glance, as he used Danny's daughter Gracie's pet name, knowing he would be rewarded with an exasperated look, and a glare. "You know, Gracie has told me that you should eat more salads… her teacher has been going on about how fast-food isn't good for cholesterol, and blood pressure."

"Gracie has been talking to _you_ about my cholesterol?" Danny's face scrunched up in the expression Steve was waiting for, and glared at the SEAL, his voice rising in indignation.

"I didn't say that. No, she only mentioned that she'd talked to her teacher about it." Mcgarrett grinned, chuckling to himself as he saw the annoyance evident on the blond man's face. He knew Danny was particularly touchy where his own business was concerned – and that included everything connected to his daughter, and his health.

"She talked to her—oh this is just great! She talked to her teacher about my cholesterol?" Bending over, and placing his hands on his knees, Danny panted for a moment, trying to catch his breath in the unusually high altitude, before straightening, and gesturing haphazardly to emphasize his exclamation as he met Steve's annoyingly amused glance with a warning glare.

"Danny, calm down, brah," Danny eyed him suspiciously as Steve approached, and clapped him on the shoulder twice before letting his hand fall carelessly to his side, saying, "Gracie is just concerned about you." Steve's lips quivered in mirth at his partner's stormy expression, and he fought to keep his face straight. "I think it's really sweet, actually. You probably should eat more salads, Danny."

"You know what, I don't want to hear anything else about it. And if you mention my eating habits again, I will personally see that you eat nothing but salads for a week."

Steve raised his hands in a submissive gesture, and shook his head, finally letting the concealed smile spread over his lips. "Not a word." He turned away from Danny, and stepped forward confidently, moving with familiar ease along the rocky trail, before turning slightly, and calling over his shoulder, "You know, I've heard iceberg lettuce is unusually delicious..."

"You know what…" Danny's answering scowl held little heat as he muttered a few unintelligible threats, and stomped after his friend, wiping his sweaty hands on his gym shorts in disgust as he tripped over a rock that protruded from the dark soil.

20 minutes later, they reached the spot where Steve had fallen down the cliff while investigating a dead body months ago, and Danny shuddered as he remembered the events that lead up to Steve's injury, and the moment when he'd thought his friend was dead. Of course, SuperSEAL had managed to get hurt; as he always seemed to, in every single situation that held the remotest promise of danger. Steve had broken his arm in the fall, and every now and then, one of his team members would catch him rubbing the same arm with an expression of discomfort, especially after tackling a suspect, and even though Steve always waved off their inquiries, shrugging carelessly, Danny determined to ask him about it as he approached the unforgettable landscape. Now was as good a time as any.

Steve reached the ledge first, and with a grunt, he crouched down, shrugging out of the backpack he had on his shoulders, equipped with snacks and water bottles, and took in the view, his eyes wandering over the smoky landscape with a peaceful gaze so seldom seen on his features. In his life, few things were peaceful, and even fewer were silent; he was surrounded by chaos from morning till night. His job demanded such strict concentration and diligence, it was seldom he was ever able to relax, but up on the mountain, surrounded by towering trees and whispering breaths of wind, it was peaceful; he felt some of the tension that had been building ever since his father died drain out of him as he flicked his eyes casually over the now-familiar landscape, and exhaled deeply.

A moment later, Danny reached his resting place, and stopped beside him, immediately flopping down on the ground, releasing a puff of air from between his lips. "I swear, Steven, you climb a mountain like a forest fire is chasing you," Danny panted, wrinkling his forehead at the unpleasant burning sensation in his lungs; he knew he wasn't as physically fit as the maniac ex-SEAL before him, or as adapt to the harsh landscape of Hawaii, and the thought crossed his mind that Steve only asked him along on the hike to rub it in. Freak.

Steve didn't respond, although Danny knew he was in hearing range, and for a moment, Danny glared at the back of his head, before rolling his eyes in resignation, and leaning back with a deep sigh. Fine. Silence never killed anyone.

Crossing his arms under his head, Danny stared at the sky, eyes drifting half-closed dreamily; clouds chased each other across the vast expanse of blue, and disappeared in the thick branches that stretched out over the edge of the cliff. Raising his head, he said suddenly, "Remember the time you broke your arm up here? It was right here, in fact, on this very cliff." He knew Steve heard him this time, and for a moment, Danny wondered if he would ignore the question, but finally, Steve stirred, and turned his head slightly, acknowledging Danny's question with a grunt of impatience.

"I remember, Danny, of course I remember, I don't have amnesia," Steve unconsciously rubbed his arm, as if feeling the stab of pain again, and then glanced over his shoulder, glaring darkly at the suspiciously innocent expression his partner had pasted on his face. "It's not usually something a person forgets; it's a very painful and embarrassing experience. Or maybe you don't know that."

"Embarrassing? Embarrassing?" Danny smirked, and wagged his eyebrows up and down. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know someone getting hurt in a perfectly logical way was embarrassing. And I didn't think you felt pain. _Steven_."

"Well, next time you fall off a cliff, and break your arm, you let me know how you feel with people gaping at you, as if you were made of steel, looking surprised that you were _actually hurt_." Steve kept his head turned to hear Danny's reply, but it was evident his thoughts were clearly elsewhere. "Oh, wait." Steve turned abruptly, and glanced at Danny out of the corner of his eye. "The only reason people are _still _talking about it, is because you keep bringing it up! _Daniel._"

"Well, you know, most people think you are more than human, so I think it's only fair that I level the playing field." Letting his head fall back against his arms, Danny hid a smile at the half pleased look that washed over Steve's face.

Steve grunted, and flushed as he caught Danny's smug expression. "Humph." Then, straightening suddenly, Steve turned, and sat down next to Danny, placing his forearms on his knees, and leaning back with a small sigh, before turning to glance at his partner casually. "Hey, where's Gracie today? With Stan?"

"Yeah." Danny sat up, and mirrored Steve's posture, brow darkening at the mention of his ex-wife's husband, but as the image of his daughter came into his mind, his lips curled upwards slightly in a tender smile. "Yeah," he repeated, rubbing his brow; he could feel Steve's gaze on him, and he knew his friend was watching him closely. "She's with Stan today. I think he's taking her surfing."

Although he tried to hide it, Danny had to admit he felt no small amount jealousy when it came to his daughter's relationship with her step-father; he knew Gracie loved _him _wholeheartedly, but Stan was rich. He bought the little girl things Danny couldn't afford, and although he knew he shouldn't, he almost despised the man. It seemed unfair. The whole situation was unfair… Without realizing it, Danny's face had sunk into a frown, and his brow was wrinkled in deep thought as he glared darkly ahead of him, unseeingly.

Observing the changes of Danny's expression, Steve sighed, and nodded slightly. He knew what the man was thinking, and the frustration and pain was clear on his face – his ex-wife's re-marriage was something Danny had joked about, but Steve knew that it seriously bothered his partner; he also knew that Danny still loved Rachel, but had distanced himself in an attempt to keep things as uncomplicated as possible, now that Rachel was pregnant with Stan's child. It would be hard on any man.

"Hey, lighten up, Danno," Smiling slightly, Steve punched his friend in the arm, softening the blow from his usual "hardcore" thump, but Danny still grunted in pain as knuckles collided with flesh. "You're working hard. Even Gracie can see that. Don't sweat it, okay? You're still Gracie's Danno."

"Ow!" Gripping his upper shoulder with his right hand, and rubbing the spot Steve had just thumped, Danny glared at the dark haired man, although his gaze held no heat. "Do you have to be so physical in everything you do? When you played football, if you ever got mad at someone, you probably just tackled them, and pummeled them to dust. Or maybe you still do that, huh? I forgot. That's basically your job, you moron."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You know what, Danny, no. I actually did not do that. And my _job _is—"

"I know what your job is, okay? It's my job too." Danny split the air with a slashing motion, still rubbing his shoulder with his other hand. "It's a miracle you haven't tackled me yet, in one of our arguments."

"Arguments?" Steve's lips quirked in amusement, and Danny wanted to smack the delighted look off his partner's face. "No wonder people think we're married; '_our arguments'…_" Steve echoed Danny's phrase, wrinkling his face with an amused expression, and rolling his eyes dramatically.

"Okay, okay. Whatever, you know what? Just forget it." Shaking his head, Steve chuckled, but to Danny's relief, he dropped the subject with a careless shrug; all this talk of arguments and marriage reminded him of Rachel; old wounds were resurfacing, and he wasn't ready to confront them. Especially not right now.

The two settled into a comfortable silence, and finally, growing impatient, Danny stood up, wincing as pins and needles prickled in his legs from sitting in one position for so long. Steve was still staring over the landscape with a look that Danny recognized; he was thinking of his father, as he unconsciously did whenever he set foot in the mountains. Danny hesitated, unwilling to disturb Steve's musings, but finally impatience overwhelmed his reluctance, and shaking himself, he cleared his throat, and asked testily, "Are you ready to move on? Hello. Steve."

"You know," Steve spoke dreamily, as if he hadn't even heard the impatient note in Danny's voice, "I'll bet Gracie would love these mountains."

Danny sighed, and shifting his weight to one foot, and placing his hands on his hips in annoyance, raised his eyebrows challengingly. "You think Gracie would—Well, you obviously know nothing about my daughter, Steven."

"What?" Steve turned to face his friend, wagging his eyebrows up and down, his expression comically innocent as he grinned at his partner's evident impatience as Danny shifted from one foot to the other. "You don't think she would enjoy traipsing about in these trees, swinging on vine swings, and climbing cliffs?"

"Climbing cliffs… you're out of your mind if you think I would let Gracie do that. See what happened when _you _decided to climb a cliff? You broke your arm, and I had to rescue you," Danny pointed out logically, his face still twisted in an expression of utter annoyance.

"Well, I solved the case," Steve said, still smirking. "You just walked around smelling like a fishing boat for days." Mcgarrett's face was void of emotion, but Danny saw his lip twitch, and he knew he was holding back a laugh, and shaking his head, Danny groaned, and wrinkled his nose. Just another thing he hated about this god-forsaken pineapple infested hellhole; the overwhelming smell of fish that seemed to hover in the air everywhere he went.

"And your excuse was your broken arm," Steve raised an eyebrow as Danny shook a finger at him. "Next time, I don't care if you're _missing _an arm. You're doing the dirty work, _brah._" Anxious to change the subject, Danny glanced at the sky, and then turned back to Steve, squinting darkly at the amused expression his friend immediately concealed behind his usual mask of stoic indifference. "Are you ready to continue up the trail, or what?"

"Are you trying to change the subject, Danny?" Danny raised his eyes to the horizon in annoyance as Steve hesitated, his tone patronizing, and he drew out the last words slowly. "Because if talking about fish makes you uncomfortable…"

"No, I am not changing the subject, Steven," Danny growled stubbornly.

Steve's face was entirely too pleased to Danny's liking, and for the second time in 5 minutes, more than anything, he wanted to smack the smug expression off his partner's face as Steve said, "I think you are. You don't want to talk about it, do you?"

"And what if I don't want to talk about it, do you have a problem with that?"

Steve rolled his eyes. "No, but why are you denying that you're changing—"

"I am not denying anythi—"

"You most certainly are," Steve interrupted, narrowing his eyes threateningly at the blond man.

"I still don't think Gracie would like the woods."

"Jungle, Danny." Steve corrected, shaking his head in quiet amusement at Danny's blunder.

"What?"

"It's a jungle, you know, the vines, exotic birds, and plants…"

"WHATEVER! Woods, jungle, forest, you know what I mean!" Danny yelled, exasperated at his partner's meticulous correction. "I'm her father, and I say she wouldn't like it." He set his jaw stubbornly, and adopted his usual expression when having a discussion with Steve: he glared.

"See, look, this is an argument," Steve pointed out rationally, referring to their previous conversation. He rose easily to his feet, brushed off his tan cargo pants, and situated the pack on his broad shoulders, rolling his corded muscles to work out the knots. "I'm not tackling you, am I?"

"I didn't say you _would _tackle me." Danny held up a finger, glad that he had never said those exact words, even though he had—

"You did infer it."

Danny glowered, and vocally denied his previous thought.

"I did no—"

"You did—"

"Steven, I did not." Danny raised his voice, and spoke firmly, but Steve grinned knowingly, his eyes alive with his typical wry humor.

"Fine. Whatever you say, Mr. Has-to-be-right." The SEAL shrugged, his lips set in a provokingly pleased expression, as he turned away.

"Shut up, Steven." Danny knew Steve had seen right through his obvious bluff, and it annoyed him. The man could be exasperatingly dense at times, but when it came to something Danny might, possibly, want to hide, his partner seemed to suddenly be more than usually attentive.

"She's a great a kid, though." Danny raised his head, and glanced at his friend, his mind trying to connect the dots of their previous conversation.

"What?"

"Gracie," Steve raised an eyebrow, a slight smile touching his lips. "She's a good kid, Danny. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, she _is_ my daughter, Steven," Danny rolled his eyes, and glanced at the trail, but Steve still hadn't moved. "She's just like her mother…"

"She's quite a kid," Steve said earnestly, his voice serious. "And she has a wicked right hook." Danny glanced at Steve curiously, but genuine admiration was the only thing reflected in the SEAL's eyes.

Danny choked back a laugh. Only Steve Mcgarrett would be impressed by a 11-year-old girl punching a fellow student in the nose. True, Danny had been secretly proud of his daughter, when he learned that the reason she had come home with bruised knuckles and flushed cheeks was the direct result of standing up to bullies, but Steve was openly proud, while Danny tried to hide his fatherly pride with astonished indignation.

"I suppose she does," Danny sighed, worry clouding his brow as he frowned, picturing his daughter's small, honest face. "She's so much like her mother, you know. Rachel punched a boy in high school for tormenting her friend. She was suspended for a week."

"I heard you got in a few scuffles in school as well, Danno," said Steve, putting his thumbs under the straps of the backpack to relieve some of the pressure, and grinning lazily at the blond man.

"True," Danny said sheepishly, rubbing his hands through his hair, his frown darkening. "But I always lost. I made the mistake of standing up to football players, who were at least 6 inches taller than I was, and regularly went to the gym to work out."

Steve shook his head, and turned back the mountainous view. "Isn't it usually the other way around? Bigger guys picking on guys smaller than them?" He glanced over his shoulder at the smaller man and grinned. "I don't think the term "pick on someone your own size" would apply to you, Danny, unless it was in reference to saving your own skin."

"You know—you know what, Steven? Shut up."

Danny knew the ex-SEAL had never had much contact with younger children – there was a sad though understandable lack of children when one spends years in the Navy, and the only child Steve had really spent much time around was his younger sister, Mary whom he doted on.

The native-Jersey's face softened as he thought of the affection Gracie had for her "Uncle Steve". For all the man's cluelessness, he had a natural way with children; if you exclude the time he had nearly scared a little girl and her mother to death in the elevator when he had entered with his gun drawn, chasing a suspect. Danny chuckled as he recalled the expression on Steve's face when he'd told him what happened.

The two men were still for the next few minutes, as they stood in comfortable silence, breathing in the damp, jungle air. Danny knew there was no rushing a man like Steve, and he resigned himself to waiting until the SEAL was ready to leave; he didn't know the way, and he could already picture the resigned-but-secretly-amused expression Steve would have on his annoying stoic face if he went and got himself lost.

Just when Danny thought Steve had fallen asleep standing up, the ex-SEAL sighed, and turning around, took a step forward towards the trail. "Coming?"

"Of course I'm coming, what did you think, I was gonna stand here while you traipse all over the mountain, you Neanderthal animal? You'd probably find the only other available cliff, and jump off of it, just to spite me." Slightly embarrassed by his previous remarks, Danny stomped passed Steve, taking the lead. He would have to let the SEAL catch up and lead the way in a moment; but then again, Steve would have no trouble keeping up. He never did.

**TBC **


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey, y'all! Here's chapter 2! Thank you for your overwhelming support on my first chapter. I was pleasantly surprised when I checked my inbox. This story is coming slower than I would have liked, and I've re-written every chapter about 5 times; the problem is, I can't seem to put down on paper what I imagine in my head... and it's extremely frustrating. BUT. It's coming along, and I'll hopefully be getting chapter 3 up this next week. Please please please review, and let me know your thoughts! And if you guys have any suggestions, or have ideas of what you want to see in the next chapters, I'll try to incorporate them in the story. Really, suggestions are always helpful. And I love hearing from you guys. ;) _

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any part of Hawaii Five-0. **

* * *

"How far are you planning on walking up this god-forsaken mountain? C'mon, haven't you already fulfilled your SEAL regimen, or whatever it is that compels you to climb ginormous cliffs for fun? Hey. Steve." Danny directed his slight-out-of-breath words at Steve's back, wiping off beads of sweat that kept forming on his brow, and glancing upwards at the sun that beat down without reprieve.

Danny had shed his button up shirt almost an hour before and tucked it in his pack, leaving him in his white t-shirt, but Steve hadn't removed his tan and green short sleeve over-shirt, even though he was sweating heavily from the vigorous exercise, and Danny wondered if the man even felt the abominable heat.

Mcgarrett had overtaken Danny's lead in moments, and had set the pace at a slower rate than was usual for him, but to Danny, it felt like he was running trying to keep up with the long strides of his partner.

"Don't tell me you're getting tired, Danny." Without stopping, Steve plowed on, throwing an amused glance over his shoulder at his partner as Danny tripped over a rock, and cursed under his breath.

Seeing the glance as he stumbled, Danny quickly righted himself, glowering, and tried to quicken his pace. "What? Really? Do you find it amusing when I trip over rocks on this barely decent trail? You know what, it's not even decent; I'm surprised this is even called a trail – it's more like an elk path; you know, one of those lines you can barely see that zigzag all over the place." Danny made an appropriate gesture to emphasize his point. "It's not fair, actually, inviting me on something as ridiculously dangerous as this, because you, my friend, are a rock climber on steroids. Just to remind you, I don't come out and climb mountains for fun on my days off. Only animals actually enjoy traipsing about these hills, Steven, and I'm not even sure all animals would find particular pleasure in this."

Pretending not to have heard his partner's ranting, Steve answered Danny's previous question, saying simply, "I'm not laughing because you tripped." Steve glanced over his shoulder again, his lips quivering into a smile, before he turned away, never slowing his pace.

"Oh, you're not laughing—then what would you call that look?" Danny panted, referring to Steve's previous expression.

"I didn't say I wasn't laughing," Steve called over his shoulder, swatting at the air in front of him as he walked into a patch of bugs. "I said I wasn't laughing because you tripped."

"Oh, 'you aren't laughing because I tripped,'" Danny parroted, rolling his eyes as he mimicked his friend's patronizing tone. "If you're not laughing at that, then why are you laughing? I don't think the birds are quipping jokes as we walk along, Steven, although they probably have a better sense of humor than you do." He waved at the towering trees overhead that were full of birds: songbirds, mockingbirds, and blue jays that were calling back and forth in a chorus of melodic chaos.

"I'm not laughing because you tripped, Danny," Steve finally stopped his vigorous strutting, and turning around, he leaned carelessly on the trunk of an obliging tree, a small smile on his face. "I'm laughing because it's the 5th time you've tripped in the past half hour."

Exhaling, Danny took a moment to catch his breath, bending over and placing his hands on his knees before he retorted, "Oh, now you're counting? Well excuse me if I don't walk on paws of velvet like you do in these blasted jungles, but where I come from, we don't waste our time tromping about in places full of poisonous snakes, and plants, and dangerous animals. We prefer the energy and refinement of a good game of football over rock-climbing with suicidal maniacs."

Steve raised his eyebrows at Danny's choice of words; he was still leaning against the tree – looking a him, he appeared to be as much at home in the middle of the wild jungle as he was in his own house. "Refinement? Okay, Danny, you've never played much football, alright, so I assume you watch," He plowed ahead, cutting off Danny's indignant comment, "and I don't know if there is anything 'refined' about watching huge men tackle each other on a football field, but let me tell you, the game of football is _anything _but refined."

It was a well known fact – as it was a frequently discussed subject among the members of Five-0 – that Danny had played many competitive but friendly games of football with his family, and friends back in Jersey, and was, in fact, quite good at it, in spite of his small stature, but his partner was getting too defensive for him to stop his gentle teasing and he grinned as Danny verbally rebutted his false claim, with his typical indignant enthusiasm.

"I most certainly did play football at _home_, Steven!" Danny straightened, and crossed his arms in an offended gesture, his glare darkening as he stared at the man in front of him. Steve was an old football player – in fact, he had been one of the star members of the team in high school – and his tall, muscled body clearly reflected the strict lifestyle and discipline that had carried over from his days on the field, and more recently, his years in the Navy. "In Jersey, at least, people know how to have fun. Around here, people's opinion of fun is chasing suspects, knocking down doors, and climbing these absurdly dangerous cliffs." Danny jabbed at Steve pointedly. 'People's' meaning Steve's, of course.

"Cliffs, Danny?" Steve gestured to the trail, and pulled his eyebrows down, his tone clearly expressing his disagreement with Danny's term. "These aren't cliffs, okay, this is a gentle, mountain trail, strictly for recreational enjoyment, and exercise."

"You know what, this is not recreational, or enjoyable, okay, Steven, and this is not good exercise. This is what would be qualified as _bad _exercise – yes, there is a thing. This is what insane people do, when they decide they don't want to live anymore, and it just so happens that sometimes, perfectly rational people get dragged along against their will!" Danny placed his palms together, and bent forward in his typical lecturing posture.

"No one forced you to come on this hike, Danny," Steve said, rolling his eyes in evident impatience at his partner's complaints. "This is what I do for fun, alright? And I thought you might enjoy a day out of the city, so I asked you if you wanted to come. I didn't force you to come, did I? You are the one who agreed to go, in fact you said you wanted to go."

Danny ignored Steve's rational statement, and shook his head stubbornly. "Well, you clearly need to get out more, because if this is your definition of fun, you have been in the Army too long, babe." Danny pursed his lips, blowing out air between his teeth, and rubbing his fingers through his hair in a practiced movement.

"Navy." Steve corrected his partner for the 2nd time that day.

Danny's hand froze in midair, and he narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"It's Navy, Danny, alright? I'm a Navy SEAL—"

"Okay, why is it always like this?" Danny stared at Steve, his eyes accusingly exasperated as he took in Steve's suddenly blank expression, and raised eyebrows; the SEAL shrugged his shoulders, and flicked his eyes around for a moment, as if looking for an explanation before he quipped innocently,

"Why is what always like what?"

"Talking to you!" Danny's hand dropped to his side, and he swiped the air in front of his face wildly, trying to clear the haze of bugs that had settled over him. "Do you have to correct every single thing I say?"

"Firstly, I don't correct everything you say, Dann—"

Exultingly, Danny raised his eyebrows, and pointed directly at Steve, his finger wiggling back and forth. "See? That's exactly what I mean. Even when you're denying that you always correct me, you're correcting me, you contradictory confusion of a person!"

Steve's lips curved upwards into a smile, and his face settled into an amused expression, as he comfortably crossed his arms, and ankles, relaxing against the tree trunk. "That was quite a sentence, Danny."

With a growl of impatience, Danny turned his back to Steve, before swinging back around, his face set in a glare of resigned exasperation. "Did you not just hear anything I said? Just never mind, Ste—" Wrinkling his brow, Danny glanced upwards, and he was alarmed at the blackness of the sky; the sharp blue that had covered the horizon was swiftly being pushed out towards the coast, and dark clouds – so dark, they were almost black – obscured the sun, and created an atmosphere of static tension. "Uh, babe, I think it's going to storm."

The change in Danny's tone stopped Steve's next remark, and he glanced upwards, as a stiff, cool breeze swept over the two men, ruffling Danny's hair, and making Steve's over-shirt flap in the wind. "I think you're right, Danny," Steve's voice had lost it's teasing tone. He knew how quickly Hawaiian storms arose, and when they hit, they hit with the severity of a mild hurricane, especially in the monsoon season. "We should head back; it looks like it's gonna be a bad one, too." Steve stood up, and glanced at the sky again, before stepping towards Danny, placing his feet carefully.

Steve inclined his head, and raised any eyebrow as he brushed past Danny, and started down the trail; the man hadn't even moved yet. "Come on, Danny," he called over his shoulder. "Are you coming, or what? Wouldn't want you to get lost."

Danny tore his eyes from the sky, and took a stumbling step towards his friend, shaking himself. "Am I comi—no, I think I'll stay here, and build me a nice shelter out of palm branches and sticks and wait for the storm to pass." He sniped sarcastically, hurrying after his friend. "And what makes you think I would get lost? There's a perfectly clear trail to follow, Steven."

Steve chuckled as he thought of Danny's previous statement. "Trail? I thought you said it was an elk-path."

Ignoring the sputtering behind him, Steve chuckled softly to himself, and stepped lightly over a gnarled root that stuck out of the ground, hoping Danny wouldn't trip over it. Danny _was_ unusually light on his feet, but hiking was definitely not his forte. Or maybe it was just Hawaii that didn't agree with his Jersey partner. Either way, Steve didn't want to be carrying Danny down the mountain because he'd sprained his ankle falling over a twig.

* * *

"Who is it again we're aiming for?"

"The smaller one, you idiot, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"The blond one?"

"YES! He is the smaller one, ain't he?"

Adjusting the scope on his rifle, the short man scooted himself backwards on the ground, positioning himself before the gun, and tapped the earpiece situated in his left ear. "I see them – both of them. Are you sure I shouldn't just take 'em both out?"

"No," Came the indignant answer, "No, boss only said to take the smaller one of the two out; we're only getting paid for one clean-up job. No reason to do two."

Wincing, the native Hawaiian jerked at the over-loud voice that blared into his ear, and shifted uncomfortably on the hard ground. Sighing, he looked through his scope again, and just caught the glimpse of the two figures as they worked their way down the path, the taller, dark haired man in front. "I still think we should take them both out. Don't you know who the other guy is? He's vicious! Last week, he alone brought in 4 suspects who were involved in that chain-murder in Honolulu. They say he can't be beaten, or killed."

A grunt of exasperation came over the earpiece. "One bullet would stop that rumor in it's tracks. But do as you're told, and nothing else. Do you want to be the one to break Carter's orders?"

The small man shuddered at the thought; his boss was even more terrifying than the tales he'd heard about the Five-0 leader; there were rumors that the man he was currently working for had shot a man in cold for whispering behind his back – and he had been one of his most trusted men. "No. Tell me, though, why are we doing this again?"

"Can't you remember anything as simple as that? Listen, Jake, for the last time, I don't know. Something to do with our client's son, and a prison fight, or whatever, alright? Carter doesn't pay us to ask questions, we find someone who needs a cleanup job, we get it done, we get paid, and we get outta there. If you weren't such a good shot, there is no way we would've gotten hired for this job. You ask too many questions. So just do the job, and get the hell outta there!"

"But Stuart, what if he investigates? He's a detective; he knows what to look for." Jake trembled with agitation as he thought of the consequences; it was one thing to kill someone for money, and it was a completely different thing when the person you were about to murder was partnered with one of the most intimidating police detectives on the island. True, Carter – the man who found jobs for them, and then paid them when they were done – was powerful, and he had always taken care of them. But this was different, and Jake had an unexplained feeling of unease.

"You run, you moron! Get outta there, take the gun, and leave. Enough questions. Get the damn job done, and then get back here. Our client's getting impatient for the job to be done; he leaves Hawaii in 2 weeks." The voice on the other line was harsh, demanding.

"Stu, I don't like this, I don't—"

"I don't care! Boss said to do it, today, and if we're lucky, Mcgarrett will catch a stray bullet, or get caught in this storm. It's supposed to be a biggie. Just do the job; put a bullet through Danny William's head, pack up and leave, d'ya hear me? And for gosh' sake, stop asking so many questions!"

**TBC **

* * *

_A/N: Once again, please review! :D _


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: AHHHH. Okay, firstly, I'm sorry for the delay – I'm posting this chapter later than I expected to, but I am so glad I waited. I had the document all ready to post - all I had to do was hit "publish".…Aaaaand, I couldn't do it. I wasn't happy with the chapter – at all – and I just couldn't do it. So I decided to risk the displeasure of my readers and wait to post it. I rewrote the whole thing, pretty much, and I must say, I'm pretty pleased with it. This was the hardest chapter for me to write so far. I've never written much 'action' fiction, and writing the whole 'unconscious', 'stunned', 'dazed'… thing… is new for me. But I hope y'all enjoy it – thank you for all your wonderful support, and the reviews! Please keep them coming; they definitely help motivate me, and that's the honest truth. You guys are awesome. (Oh, and all my work is "un-beta'd"... if that is a word? Ha. ;) So all mistakes are mine.)_

**Previous disclaimer still applies. **

* * *

Steve and Danny swiftly worked their way down the trail, and for once, Danny was having no problem keeping up with his long-legged friend; the blackness of the sky was enough to make a bird seek cover – and in fact, the towering trees were empty of life, as if the creatures of the jungle knew what was coming, and didn't want to be caught out in it.

Danny jumped over a rock, and quickened his pace even more as Steve glanced at the sky. "Whew, this storm came up quickly," Steve remarked, his tone casually relaxed, as he placed his feet carefully and stepped lightly through a tangle of roots that had worked their way over the trail. "And I've seen my fair share of storms. I heard there was a storm predicted for tomorrow, but it must be coming in early."

Danny huffed, wiped his forehead, and then abruptly stopped walking, to avoid running into Steve's back, as the SEAL stopped suddenly. "Why are you stopping?" He asked nervously, glancing at the sky, before returning his gaze to Steve, who was digging in his pack.

"Might as well rest for a moment. We're only about 2 miles from the bottom. We'll make it in good time."

"R-Rest, I'm sorry, did you just say _rest_? I wasn't aware that SEALs took the time to rest, you know, I just figured they thought it was too human, and they had to keep up their appearance of indestructibility, and fearless heroes, or whatever it is you maniacs think you have to live up to."

"You know what, Danny, no, SEALs do not have anything against taking a break, contrary to whatever misconception you happen to believe. Just take a minute, and relax, alright. Stop talking, if you can manage that for a few minutes, and just enjoy the beauties of nature, huh?" Steve pulled out his water bottle, and took a deep swig, before emptying the rest on his head, shaking and sputtering like a dog, as water drops flew in every direction.

"You know what, fine. Fine." Danny glowered, and took a step back to avoid the unwanted shower, but he pulled out his own water bottle, and took a drink, gazing upwards at the threatening clouds that were growing darker every moment. He shot a quick glance at his grinning – and soaking wet – partner, and asked innocently, "Those clouds are getting darker; are you sure we have enough time to…" He smirked as Steve rolled his eyes, knowing what was coming, ".._rest_?"

"I don't know; I'm not sure if I can handle it, Danny," Steve said, dramatically, before reverting to his usual tone. "Would you just relax? You're as tense as a diver in a shark cage. It's only 12:14," he narrowed his eyes and glanced upwards, "The storm won't hit before 1:20. I'd say, about 1:30, 1:35."

Danny squinted doubtfully, and tried to reassure himself with the knowledge that Steve knew Hawaii like the back of his own hand; his partner was a walking encyclopedia of the plants, animals, and weather patterns in this pineapple infested hellhole, and if anyone would know, it would be him. The thought helped, but it didn't completely erase his unease.

Steve smirked at as he caught Danny's distrusting glance, and then rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Danno, have a little faith. Joe used to call me the Navy weather radar when I was a SEAL. Anyone can predict the weather if they live in one place long enough."

"Except the weatherman, obviously," Danny pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "You said the storm wasn't predicted until tomorrow. And, just to be clear, it's not you I doubt, Steven, it's the weather."

"I'm touched, Danno, really," Steve grinned delightedly. "I'm so relieved you trust me. I'll have to remind you of that next time I'm driving your car."

"I did not say I trusted you, I said I didn't doubt you; there is a difference."

"There isn't a difference, okay, just different wording." Steve rebutted. "If you don't doubt me, that means that you trust me, and since you obviously let me drive because you trus—"

Danny rolled his eyes, and slashed his hand through the air, sharply cutting Steve off in the middle of his sentence, "That is taking it too far, alright? Just… forget it. Forget I said anything. Can we just go now?"

"Don't tell me the weather is making you nervous, Danno." Steve was clearly amused, but nevertheless, to Danny's relief, he tucked his empty water bottle back in his black backpack, and stepped forward, moving down the trail again.

"No, alright, I am not nervous," Danny refuted, falling into step behind his friend. "I'm just… alright, yes, I am nervous, okay, which is a perfectly honest emotion; SEAL's probably don't experience that feeling, do they – all the diving off of cliffs, and saving innocent lives, and swimming in shark infested waters…"

"Alright, would you just stop with the SEAL jokes? They're not funny, okay, not funny, at all." Steve half turned his head as he spoke, and Danny could see his lips were twitching as he tried to hide a smile.

"Oh, they're not funny—if they're not funny, why are you laughing, huh, SuperSEAL?" Danny frowned, as Steve suddenly paused in the middle of the trail, and turning towards the left side of the trail, held up a detaining finger raised his head, and peered into the thick trees. Impatiently, Danny asked, "What?"

"Hang on," Steve's voice was hushed, and unconsciously, Danny lowered his voice, glancing in confusion at the empty landscape that met his gaze when he turned to see what his friend was looking at so intently.

"What?"

"Shh!"

Danny didn't see anything unusual; it was unnaturally quiet, but he knew they were being loud enough to scare all the wildlife for miles around – and he attributed the silence to the coming storm. "I don't see anything – are you sure you're not just trying to change the subject?" He asked, suspiciously. Danny knew Steve enjoyed the friendly banter they exchanged, but the man always seemed to feel that he had to outsmart everyone, in everything – he always had to be the best, if at all possible. _Compliments of his time in the Navy_, Danny thought, wryly.

"Be quiet," Steve whispered, keeping his gaze directed at the thickly wooded trees; he crept forward slowly, stepping quietly to avoid the sticks, and loose rocks on the trail.

"What is it?" Danny asked, annoyed, keeping his tone low.

Steve finally turned around in exasperation and glared at his partner threateningly. "Would you be quiet, please, Danny? Is that too much to ask? Or do I need to come over there, and gag you? Huh? Please, okay, I'm asking nicely. _BE QUIET._"

Raising his hands in surrender, Danny nodded assent silently, and with another glare, Steve turned back to the area he was scanning without another word. Sighing, the blond detective glanced around impatiently, trying to see what held his freakishly observant partner's attention.

He saw nothing unusual – to the right, a few feet off the trail, the ground dropped off sharply; a cliff that sloped down steeply into the jungle below. Danny could hear a waterfall far below them, and the entire embankment was spotted with tall trees that reached towards the sky, and was covered with sharp, jagged rocks. 10 yards off the trail to the left – in the direction his crazy partner was currently staring – was a small bank that formed a wall of rock and then spread outward into level ground, creating a spread of thick jungle; tall trees, vines, and bushes filled the entire expanse, concealing anything – or anyone – who might be hiding there.

All this information was processed in a few seconds, and still, Danny neither saw nor heard anything unusual in the surrounding landscape. He threw another glance at Steve, but the dark haired man hadn't moved, and a look of intense scrutiny was evident on his usually stoic face. _What in the world is he looking at? _Danny thought, impatiently, shifting from one foot the other, and glancing again at the darkening sky. _We're gonna get caught up here on this godforsaken mountain in a thunderstorm, and I swear, if he gets struck by lightning…_ His thoughts were interrupted suddenly, as Steve turned around to face him, his face set in wary resignation.

"So, what was it?" Danny raised his eyebrows, and gestured towards the rocky bank Steve had just been staring at. "What was it, huh? Because I don't know about you, but I don't see anything there, and I don't hear anything either. But maybe I'm missing something, since I don't have the—"

Steve raised a finger, and took a step towards his friend, scowling. "Not another word about Navy SEALs, or I swear, I will lose you on this mountain, and not come back to look for you. And if you get lost, you'll probably end up falling off a cliff. Like this one." Steve gestured towards the steep embankment behind the blond man, and grinned as the Jersey native glared at him.

Waving his hand through the air in a exasperated motion, Danny said, "Knowing you, _Steven, _you'll be the one to fall off the cliff – again. And why do you always assume that I don't know how to follow simple instructions? Maybe you just think everyone is as stubborn and thick headed as you are. I actually wasn't going to say a word about SEALs, or the Navy, alright?"

"You weren't." Ignoring the half-jokingly spoken barb, Steve squinted his eyes skeptically, and crossed his arms, pausing in front of the blond detective. "Are you sure about that?"

"No, Steven, I was not. I was merely going to remark that your instincts have actually saved us from some pretty bad situations."

"Really?" A look of surprise washed over Steve's face, and his eyes glinted in pleased amusement as a wide smile spread over his lips. "Are you actually starting to appreciate my skills, Danno? I don't know what to say."

Danny cleared his throat and rolled his eyes self-consciously, hoping to move on, but he knew it was hopeless – this was one of those things that Steve would never forget – and thus, would never let _him _forget. "Just… what are you looking at? Do you see something these civilian eyes don't see, or something?" He gestured towards the thick trees behind his partner, who was still grinning stupidly. "Just a reminder, Steven, the storm's not gonna wait for us because you think you see something in the bushe—"

A loud noise echoed through the jungle, leaving Danny's ears ringing and cutting him off in the middle of his sentence; the air around him seemed to explode, and Danny felt a rush of wind, as something buzzed past his head, leaving him off balance, and confused. It only took him a split second to register the source of the noise – it came from the direction Steve had just finished scrutinizing. Danny spun around, automatically reaching for his sidearm as the ground in front of him exploded, spraying rocks and dirt in every direction, but his fingers grasped empty air. Uttering a curse, he remembered suddenly that he had left his gun in the bottom of his drawer that morning, not expecting to need it on the hiking trip.

"Danny!" His partner's call echoed in his ears, and turning, he saw Steve lunge towards him; time seemed to slow to a standstill as Danny watched with horrified fascination at the unfolding events. Just as Steve's body came between him and the shooter, another gunshot echoed through the forest, and with a cry that repeated over and over in Danny's mind, he saw Steve's body jerk as the bullet pierced his shoulder, spinning him around wildly, and throwing him forcefully to the ground before the projectile ricocheted off into the trees behind them with an eerie echo.

"Steve!" Cold dread gripped Danny, and for a moment he couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, he couldn't think – the speed at which everything was happening left him dazed. He watched in frozen helplessness as his partner hit the ground in a spray of dirt and rolled, propelled sideways by the force of the gunshot. Blood blossomed on the front of Steve's shirt, and just before Steve's body went limp, Danny saw pain – and fear – reflected in his partner's eyes.

_Fear_.

"No, no, no, Steve!" With his eyes locked on the SEAL, Danny suddenly noticed with a crippling sense of dread the direction Steve was rolling, his body limp… for once, the kick-ass SEAL was undeniably, horribly helpless…

_The cliff._

Almost without realizing it, Danny spurred himself into action; he was moving; pushing himself towards the edge, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other, reaching with desperate fingers… moving in slow motion, as if running through deep water… "Steve! STEVE!"

The crack of another gunshot echoed through the forest; there was a flash of pain on the side of his head, and he felt warm blood trickled down the side of his face as he staggered, his vision swimming, and then merging into a shimmering wall of light. Danny felt himself falling, but he had lost all control of his limbs, and he couldn't force his muscles to obey his will. Pain crashed like a wave through the brink of consciousness as he hit the ground heavily, and the last thing he saw before darkness swallowed him was Steve's limp body disappearing over the edge of the steep bank.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: What can I say? I've become addicted to cliffhangers. ;) Sorry, guys. Also, now that we're getting into the action, let the whump begin. *cue dramatic music* No, really._

_Thanks for reading, y'all!_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Once again, this took longer to get up than I originally intended. Sorry about that. I'm traveling (home) right now, and all my writing is being done on the road, and I'm posting this from a hotel room. Haha. The majority of this chapter is from Steve's perspective - and lemme tell you, that was interesting. I tend to do better when I have 2-3 people (or more) feeding off of each when I write fanfiction, but I also tend to write much... deeper... when I'm only writing from one POV. So. Anyway. I'm really just rambling, but please please please tell me your thoughts. ;) Thank you all for your continued support; it literally makes my day, and keeps me motivated. Currently working on Chapter 5, and I hope to get it up soon. :D xx _

**Disclaimer: I still don't own H50. **

* * *

With a grunt, Jake Mackintosh watched in stupid fascination through his scope as his target – the short, blond man – collapsed bonelessly to the ground, and lay still, one hand stretched out limply before him as if, even in unconsciousness, he was still reaching for his partner, as the tall, heavily muscled dark haired man rolled over the edge of the cliff and disappeared from sight. A half-regretful smile hovered over the dark man's lips, as he surveyed the job well done. He wasn't a murderer, but he needed the money. Some hiker would find them in a few hours, and there would be no ties to connect anyone to the case. The Five-0 team had plenty of enemies; anyone with a grudge could've targeted them, and exacted their revenge. Anyone at all.

His earpiece clicked, and Stuart's voice blared in his ear. His voice was demanding, and impatient, as usual, as he asked sharply, "Is it done yet?"

"Yeah." Jake cleared his throat. "It's done. Mcgarrett jumped in front of a bullet, though. They're both down."

"Good." Stuart suddenly sounded pleased, and his voice took on a mollifying tone. "You did good. Real good. It'll be easier for all of us now that Mcgarrett's out of the picture too. In fact, I would have much rather killed him than Danny Williams. He's the one who causes us the most trouble. But," he laughed harshly, "They're both gone, and all the better for us. Get back here, alright. We got another job tonight." Stuart hesitated, then said as an afterthought, "Oh, and Jake? Make sure they're dead before you leave, huh?" His voice changed to a tone of mocking impatience. "Those two have a damn bad habit of living through situations that would kill anyone else." He laughed humorlessly. "For them, it was a good habit, I guess, but for us, it's just plain inconvenient."

Grimacing at the thought of approaching a dead body, Jack nodded reluctantly. "Fine." He hesitated, then a thought that had popped into his head earlier resurfaced, and he asked suddenly, "Stu, why don't we get out of this life?" He liked being a sniper – he loved guns, all sizes, but killing people for money didn't appeal to him at all. He only did it because he had to; he didn't know how to do anything else. "We could go somewhere else. You know, start over somewhere new." He grimaced as the man on the other end of the line didn't respond – all he heard was the huff of Stuart's heavy breathing, before he finally answered,

"You getting soft, Jake?" The tone was soft; threatening. "You gonna be able to finish the job? Or am I gonna have to send someone out to help you? And if I do that, there is no way you're getting paid for this job, _or _getting hired in the future."

"I'm not getting soft," Jake refuted vigorously, noting the not-so subtle threat with a small shudder. "I just hate the feeling that someone is following me all the time. There has to be something else we can do to make enough money. Something legal."

For a moment, the line was silent. Then, "Alright. You come back, and we'll talk about it, okay? But if – and that's a big _if _– I agree to this, it'll be after this next job. It's gonna be a big one, and we need the money." A moment passed, then Stuart barked, "Y'hear me?"

"I hear you."

"Good. Now get back here."

The line went silent again, and with a sigh, Jake pulled the earpiece out of his ear, and surveyed the area beneath him again, before averting his eyes with a slight shudder. So. That was the end of Danny Williams. And if appearances weren't deceiving, Steve Mcgarrett wouldn't be back to jailing criminals any time soon – if at all.

Jake wasn't exactly sure where the bullet had hit Mcgarrett, but he knew the man was badly injured – if he was even still alive. The bullets in his gun were special; designed to pierce body armor, and penetrate the thickest barriers. Steve Mcgarrett didn't stand a chance if he'd taken a solid hit; and what were his chances out here, wounded and alone, anyway?

Confusion washed over him as he thought of the man's actions; what had come over Mcgarrett? What had prompted to throw himself in front of the bullet? Steve Mcgarrett was ex-military; his name was spoken in tones of awe, and reverential fear, and Jake had no doubt the ex-SEAL was able to recognize a sniper's target when he saw it. After all, Jake hadn't even aimed at Mcgarrett once.

So, why had he thrown himself in front of Williams? Jake had never met a man who was willing to sacrifice himself for a friend. The motto of everyone he worked for – and with – was "Each man for himself". If leaving a colleague behind meant your own survival, there were no second thoughts; ties, friendships, even family connections were broken in this business. You ensured your own survival, no matter the cost to those around you. It was just how things were.

Shaking his head in puzzlement, Jake pushed himself to his knees, and began disassembling the rifle, carefully packed it away, and clearing the area of any signs of his presence. He hated the life he had been forced into, but that didn't mean he was willing to go to jail because his reluctance to take a life made him careless.

Concluding his work, he stood, and glanced hesitatingly towards the body of Danny Williams. The man was dead; there was no doubt about it. There was no way Williams could survive a headshot, and Jake was confident in his own skills. With a shrug, he threw the gun case over his shoulder, and hurried back down the side-trail he had ascended only 3 hours before. There was a bad storm coming, from the looks of the sky, and he sure didn't want to be caught in it.

Besides, he had things to discuss with Stuart.

* * *

Pain. That was the first thing he noticed… raw, overwhelming, red-hot pain, swallowing him, fighting him, draining him. He was being dragged towards the light against his will – torn from the comfortable oblivion he had sunk into, and forced into reality… a harsh, blatant world of muted light, and agonizing torment. _What happened?_ Steve's mind was fuzzy; it felt like wool had been stuffed into his brain and his usually sharp thinking was sluggish, and jumbled as he licked his lips laboriously.

With a soft groan, Steve tried to open his eyes, but for some reason, they weren't obeying his commands – they stayed closed firmly, and with a grunt, he gave up on the idea of opening them – for the moment, at least. He couldn't remember what had happened; all he knew was the burning pain in his right shoulder, and the overwhelming feeling of weakness that he couldn't explain. He knew he had to move – had to get up, but for some reason, he couldn't remember why.

Taking a deep breath, he winced at the sharp stab of pain that shot through his entire right side, setting the nerves on fire and mimicking the sensation of a knife being twisted into his arm. He swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat, and exhaled shakily. _Where am I? _If he could just look around… His eyes were still as heavy as concrete, and he reluctantly dismissed the recurring urge to look around, and taking a shallow breath, he focused on his other senses. He had determined his location before without the use of his eyes, and he could do it again.

He was curled around himself in a protective position, and his left side was pressed up against a surface that was hard, and ragged – a tree trunk? That would explain the dull throbbing in his ribs, and stiffness of his left shoulder… he must have collided with it. There were leaves, pine needles and moist dirt under his fingertips, and the air was thick, and heavy, without the slightest breath of wind: sure sign of an approaching storm. He forced himself to clear his mind, ignoring the agony that screamed at him, as he tried to focus, but the explanation of his current situation escaped him. _What happened?_

His breathing quickened, and he forced himself to take deep breaths. _Calm down_, Steve told himself with as much firmness as he could muster. _Think strategically. _This was just another Navy mission – if he could convince himself of that, maybe he could get his wits about him enough to remember what had happened… Maybe. There was something about a storm coming. Hiking, joking, laughing with someone. With… who? And… loud noises, he was diving for someone_… _and… suddenly, he remembered. _Gunshots._

"Danny!" The cry was torn from Steve's throat involuntarily, and sitting bolt upright, he looked around, searching frantically for any sign of the blond man, and then, as a wave of dizziness assailed him, threatening to overwhelm his tenuous grip on consciousness, he slumped backwards again with a half-muffled gasp, immediately regretting the hasty movement. Black spots flickered around the edge of his vision, and he swallowed thickly as a wave of nausea swept over him. _Bad idea, _he reproached himself sardonically, gritting his teeth and panting as another onset of agony tightened the muscles in his neck and shoulders, clenching them forcefully before finally lessening, leaving him gasping for air, and trembling.

It all came back in a rush: The hike. Teasing Danny, the playful bantering, back and forth. The coming storm, and the hasty retreat down the mountain. Then, the flurry of action – the sniper, gunshots, diving in front of his partner, and then pain, immediately followed by comforting, shadowed oblivion.

_You have to sit up, _he told himself firmly, grimacing at the thought of enduring the same torment he'd just went through when he'd sat up a moment before_. _And look where that had gotten him – lying on the ground in the exact same place, curled up in the exact same fetal position, trying to ignore the pain. And the 'ignoring' part wasn't working out all that well. Fantastic.

With a strangled groan, Steve forced his eyes open again, and fighting to ignore the stabbing pain in his shoulder, he raised his head, biting his lip so hard he thought he would draw blood as he gasped out, "Danny?" Through the rushing blood in his ears, he listened anxiously for a response, but the only sound that came back to him was the echo of his own voice. Swallowing down the rising panic, Steve looked around, and called out again, expecting to hear the reproachful yet concerned voice of his partner momentarily, who would no doubt be _thrilled _that he had managed to get shot. Again.

"Danny! Hey partner, I could use a hand here." His voice sounded surprisingly weak when he spoke, and he grimaced at the dryness of his throat as he swallowed painfully; it felt like he'd swallowed glass. "Danny?"

The only sound that met his ears was the rapid beating of his own heart as it pounded weakly against his ribs, the sharp _inhale, exhale _of his breathing, and a whispering breath of wind in the trees. That was all.

Steve sighed. "So, it's gonna be like that, Danno?" Pushing himself upright with his left arm, he managed to position himself against the base of the tree, and leaned against it, clenching his jaws tightly to keep back a groan. His eyes drifted shut as he attempted to block out the pain, but he soon realized his "off switch" wasn't obeying his commands: this wasn't the kind of pain he _could_ ignore, and move past. It screamed at him, begging for recognition, demanding his attention, engulfing his body in an inferno of unquenchable agony.

Suddenly, Steve became aware of something dripping down his arm; something warm that seemed to originate from his shoulder, and with a sinking feeling in his stomach, he directed his gaze downwards, and saw the scarlet liquid that was running down his arm, and soaking his entire right side. His confusion, the frustrating weakness, and the unexplainable pain suddenly became clear to him, and he leaned his head back against the rough trunk of the tree with a grunt.

"Oh."

_Gunshots._

Raising his head again required no small amount of effort, but Steve forced himself to inspect the wound more closely; it was specked with bits of dirt – which was no surprise, considering the distance he had rolled – and was still oozing; the bullet had gone clean through his shoulder, which explained the heavy bleeding. Steve grunted dryly, half relieved. Digging a bullet out of his shoulder was not something he wanted to do right now; sure, it _was _something he'd done once before – actually, he'd taken a bullet to the leg – but he had no desire to re-live the experience again. He had been surrounded by his comrades – fellow Navy SEALs, who had assisted him; they'd saved his life – but right now, he was alone.

Swallowing thickly, Steve glanced painfully at his watch; it was 12:29. Had it really only been 15 minutes since the last time he'd checked? So, he'd been unconscious for about 10 minutes – that was too long; although cleaning the wound was important, it was even more essential that he stop the bleeding, and quickly. The effects of blood loss were similar to the feeling a person experienced when their blood sugar was low; confusion, dizziness, overwhelming weakness, and, accompanied by the pain – since the loss of blood was _usually _associated with an injury of some sort – shock was never long in setting in.

Steve shook his head in a weak attempt to clear his cloudy thoughts. _Stop the bleeding. _It was the most important rule in… heck, he couldn't remember where it was from. But it was important, he knew, and grimacing resolutely, he began unfastening his already half-saturated button-up shirt. It wasn't an ideal bandage, but it would do in a pinch; and besides, it was all he had. Despite the chilled tremors that were running through his body, he felt like he was on fire, and sweat was soaking his hair, and dripping down his face.

As he fumbled with the shirt, he caught sight of the black backpack he always carried out of the corner of his eye; it was lying only a few feet away… _So close, _Steve thought. There were bandages in there, but Steve reluctantly relinquished the idea of trying to reach it. There was no way he was going to be able to move – especially right now. He had to stop this darn gusher first. At last, he shakily slid the shirt off his shoulders, and wadding it up with his good hand, he bit his lip, and tentatively but firmly pressed the fabric against the wound in an attempt to stop the steady flow of blood.

A sharp cry echoed through the jungle, but Steve wasn't sure if the sound came from his mouth, or not. His vision flickered, and renewed agony shot through him at the pressure, but he gritted his teeth, and hung onto consciousness tenaciously with one last lingering tendril of determination, and vainly attempted to direct his thoughts to something else… anything else. His breath was coming in heaves, and he leaned his head back weakly against the tree, letting his eyes drift shut. He wasn't going anywhere, so he might as well save his strength; and at the moment, keeping his eyes open seemed to be an unnecessary waste of energy.

He hated this; not just the inconvenience; not the blasted feeling of weakness that dragged his limbs down, or even the pain that sapped the strength from his body – they were all familiar feelings, and he had grown accustomed to them over the years – or at least, had learned to put up with them, and live through them. He never truly got used to the agonizing pain of a gunshot wound, but he had learned to continue on in spite of it. It was what made him a SEAL.

It was what made him… _him._

No, what bothered him the most was the feeling of helplessness. Steve hated being helpless, and he always did everything in his power to avoid those… unpleasant circumstances. Being able to help himself – and others – was what kept him going, no matter the situation, and he prided himself in his ability to overcome and think through potentially deadly encounters. He had the ability to protect the innocent – his family, his friends, his team-mates – and he had the responsibility to do so, even if it meant risking his own life in the process.

Right now, he couldn't help Danny. He couldn't even help himself.

He abstractly noticed blood was still trickling down his arm steadily, and without opening his eyes, Steve pressed down more firmly on the wound, inhaling sharply as another burst of pain distracted his carefully organized thinking; for a moment, his mind went blank as he struggled to fight off the blackness that was invading his mind, but finally, through ragged, shallow breaths, he was able to return to his previous line of thought.

Panting, Steve grunted in humorless amusement. At least, this time, Danny couldn't blame him for getting shot; for once, his actions hadn't brought about the current consequences – it was an unavoidable event that had created this difficulty – it wasn't Danny's fault, it wasn't his fault, it just _was_. And right now, the only thing Steve could do was sit still, trying to stop the bleeding, and forcing himself to ignore the pain, praying all the while that his partner was still alive. For goshs' sake, it was Danny; he had to be.

Ignoring the stabs of agony that ran down his arm, Steve winced, and slowly curled the fingers of his right hand into a weak fist, relieved when they responded – albeit a bit laboriously – to his command; at least he could still move them – that meant the bullet hadn't irreparably damaged anything... Hopefully. And he was almost certain he could protect himself if the shooter came back to finish the job. Maybe. At least he wasn't quite helpless.

There was that blasted word again. _Helpless._

The only other times Steve could remember feeling so useless – so vulnerable – was when he dealt with the occasional hostage situations that arose in his team's line of work. That, and the time his father had been murdered by Victor Hesse. Steve hadn't been able to do a single thing as the long, powerful arm of Wo Fat sanctioned his father's cold-hearted murder, while he'd listened to the fatal gunshot over the phone, thousands of miles away.

Now, as he lay against the base of a huge tree in the middle of the jungle, wounded and in pain, there were no negotiations that would help him. There was no madman holding a gun to the head of a family member, or an innocent civilian, forcing his hand; the only leverage holding him in place was his own weakness – his pain. There was nothing he could do to fix it.

This time, the unpleasant – and possibly deadly – situation he was in was a direct result of his own inescapable, undeniable _darn_ humanity.

Steve's pain clouded mind suddenly brought him back to the present, and he slowly opened his eyes, and exhaled shakily, weakly shrugging off the oppressive thoughts, and forcing himself to analyze the current situation; raising his head to look around was too exhausting at the moment, so he stared absently in front of him, his eyes resting blankly on the edge of the bank 50 feet above his head.

There was still no sign of Danny, and Steve was certain there was no way he was getting to his feet without some sort of help; and if _he_ had been shot, what were the chances that his partner had escaped unscathed? Danny always complained – and not without reason – that whenever Steve got shot, Danny was thrown into the line of fire. It was evident that his half-angry accusation was only a ruse to cover up the concern that his amusingly exasperating partner felt, but Steve knew that – considering how many gunfights he'd been in – he was unusually lucky when it came to walking away from potentially deadly situations unharmed.

Adjusting his cramping grip on the blood-soaked shirt, Steve shifted his position slightly, and gritted his teeth so hard his jaw began to ache, but the slight discomfort helped distract him from the almost unbearable ache pervading his entire right side. _C'mon. It's just a little pain. You've felt worse._

Instinct told him something had happened – if Danny was able to, he would have come by now; he was almost as stubborn as Steve himself, and had a rather annoying but persistent habit of _always_ being underfoot. Although he would never admit it, Steve had to acknowledge that his Jersey partner had saved him from some pretty nasty situations,_because _of that secretly amusing tendency. He was always there when Steve – or any other member of the Five-0 team – needed him to be, with the dry humor and complaining willingness so customary to him.

Until now.

Black spots swam before his eyes, and absently, Steve noticed suddenly that the overwhelming pain was fading slightly; although he welcomed the blessed relief, it was not a good sign, and a pit of dread formed in his stomach. He could feel the numbness spreading through his entire body, accompanied by a chilling sensation, and he knew he was going into shock as his vision flickered, rippling and waving before fading to grey, and back again. The bleeding in his shoulder had slowed, but if he lost consciousness, he wouldn't be able to keep enough pressure on the wound; he would bleed out in the span of a few minutes…

_"Steve!"_

Through the haze of pain, a voice echoed in Steve's mind; a familiar voice, and with one last tremendous effort, he made a feeble effort to raise his head… trying to call out… telling himself to stay awake… stay alert… _fight…_ but he couldn't make his weary body obey his commands, and exhaling weakly, he gave up, too exhausted to care. The shadowed form of his partner appeared at the top of the bank, but Steve couldn't focus; his vision was blurring, and merging in a confusing myriad of colors. He was tired… so tired… keeping his eyes open suddenly didn't seem all that important, and wearily, he allowed his eyelids to drift shut, dropping a muted veil over the black clouds, and whispering trees.

Seconds before he allowed the welcoming darkness to envelope him, one word rang through his mind. Just one word.

_Danny._

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: Ooh, so now Danny has found him. Next chapter brings the boys back together. We've started on the 'hurt'... now comes the 'comfort'. Hope y'all are enjoying, and thank you for reading! (And again, please review. *puppy eyes* Pretty please? ;))_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I'm only half satisfied with this chapter, but I keep telling myself to stop trying to compete with all the adults who write fanfiction. After all, I'm only 17. Hah. Anyway. You guys really didn't need to know that. BUT. Here is Chapter 5... Starts in Danny's POV (obviously), and by the end, our boys are back together. *sniffs sentimentally* Thank you all SO much for your incredible support, and all the reviews on my last chapter. (And to all those who reviewed Chapters 1-3, I'm so sorry I didn't respond personally to your wonderful comments... I just figured out how to do that.) Life has been a little busier, now that I'm home, but I will try to post at least (AT LEAST) once a week. Hopefully more. :) Thanks for reading, y'all! You guys are awesome._

**I still don't own H50. Drats. **

* * *

Flashes of gray swam before his eyes, and lights flickered obnoxiously, as if someone was playing with a light switch, flicking it on and off repetitively. The blackness before his eyes faded to gray, and as Danny emerged from the cloud of blackness, a flash of white hot pain ripped through his head, bringing him into a world of harsh light. The return to consciousness made him aware of a fierce throbbing in his skull that seemed to spread down his entire neck, and throughout his body with a sensation that hurt like hell. In fact, everything hurt.

Groaning, Danny wondered foggily if he'd been playing tackle football, and had been knocked out by a 400 pound bodybuilder. On steroids. It had actually happened once before - minus the bit about illegal drugs - so it wasn't that unlikely. A strange tingling in his left arm stood out in his muddled brain. His left hand was aching dully, alternating between throbbing and burning, and shifting slightly, Danny tried to move it to a more comfortable position, but it refused to budge, staying stubbornly motionless. With a tired sigh, Danny decided it wasn't that important - it was only slightly uncomfortable, and goodness knows he'd been in worse positions.

Wincing at the unexplained headache and annoying fogginess that clouded his mind, Danny wondered fuzzily what was so different about his current unknown location. He wasn't in the city, that was certain; there were no sounds of traffic, no pitter-patter of hundreds of feet on worn sidewalks, no rushing of waves crashing and breaking on the sandy shores of the place he now called home.

It was silent... unnaturally silent, and suddenly, he realized _that_ was what was so unusual; the raw, blaring silence, so different from the crazed chaos and busyness of everyday life. Was he so unused to the peace and quiet that the lack of noise unsettled him? Maybe that was the reason for the high-pitched ringing in his ears... maybe.

A breath of wind tickled his cheek softly, but everything around him seemed to be wrapped in a muffled blanket of silence, and as he sucked in a deep gulp of air, he tasted rain on his tongue… come to think of it, the air was awfully thick, too. That wasn't good… but he couldn't seem to remember _why_ it wasn't good. Instinct, maybe. _Instinct. Huh. _That supposed 'instinct' wasn't telling him where he was - which was what he _really _needed to know - and for some reason, he couldn't remember...

_What in the world… where the heck am I?_

With a grunt, Danny realized detachedly that he was lying on his stomach, with one hand stretched out in front of him, while his other arm was twisted uncomfortably underneath his chest. So _that_ was why he couldn't move it. Wincing, he wondered at the stiffness that pervaded his entire body – he felt like he'd taken a beating, and for some reason, his left knee felt swollen and hot. Maybe he had been tackled after all. But… there was still something that didn't make sense about that explanation… something didn't add up.

_Something's wrong._ Danny frowned and tried to concentrate through the pounding in his head. Why in the world did he feel like something horrible was about to happen? Or maybe it had already happened. That made more sense; why else would he be waking up to silence with a pounding headache, unable to recall why the _heck_ he was there? Wherever "there" was…

In spite of the instinct that told him something was wrong – very wrong – the last thing he wanted to do was move: just the thought made him queasy, and the throbbing in his head seemed to increase every moment, until it felt like someone was banging on a drum inside his head. Biting back a groan, Danny sighed, exasperated at his own weakness.

He needed to look around – he certainly wasn't in his bed, which was his first thought upon waking up – and he couldn't remember what had happened… the only thing he could focus on was the throbbing in his skull and with a sigh, he let his mind focus on the only tangible issue that presented itself at the moment. Pain.

He decided he would take the pain of the worst hangover he'd ever had over the agony that was pounding in his temples; if he didn't know any better, he would say he had just woken up after a night on the town. With a groan, he clenched his eyes shut more tightly, attempting to shut out the grey light that filtered through his eyelids, and fought to clear his foggy brain… _What the heck. I haven't been drunk in a long time. At least not *this* drunk._

He'd had a few hangovers in his younger days – stupid, carefree nights drinking in bars with his college buddies, going home drunk and happy, and waking up the next morning dull, thick tongued, and wondering why the heck people _ever_ got drunk. He'd thought the pain in his head was bad then, but this was worse. Much worse; his head was throbbing with every beat of his heart, and even the most horrid hangover didn't come close to comparing to the pounding, stabbing pressure behind his eyes that threatened to rip his skull apart in flashes of white hot pain.

_C'mon, Danny, you can roll onto your back… don't be such a baby._

With a muffled grunt, he shifted his weight, and carefully rolled over onto his back, groaning as his muscles protested to the movement; he must have been lying in that extremely uncomfortable position for quite some time, as the arm he'd been lying on was tingling with pins and needles as if flopped free. To tired to attempt anything else, he let his body go limp. It was fine… he didn't really need to move anymore. But… _You have to open your eyes, Danny. C'mon. _He didn't want to. He really didn't want to. Every pulsing stab in his head reinforced his decision to lay still, and the light that was filtering through his clenched eyelids was bright enough as it was. And more light meant more pain. Wonderful.

_Buck up, Danny. It's just a little light. Light is good. You need light to see._ In spite of his previous bravado, he wasn't prepared for the agony that shot through his head as he took a deep breath, and cautiously lifted his heavy eyelids; the harsh gray light doubled the pounding in his head, and gasping, he blinked away the pain-induced tears that gathered in his eyes. "Ughhh."

It was bright. It was too bright. But the light was gray, not yellow like sunshine should be… why was that?

Wincing, he squeezed his eyes shut again in an attempt to block out the painful brilliance; that was just fine. He didn't really need to look around at the moment. Taking a deep breath, he swallowed thickly as he fought back the rising nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. It took a minute for the sensation to dissipate, but when it finally did, he exhaled shakily, swallowing thickly in relief. Getting sick would definitely not help his headache. But opening his eyes had definitely not helped either. So much for that.

With a start, he realized something was running down the side of his face; something sticky, and warm, and frowning again, he tentatively brought his hand up to his head, wincing as his fingers came in contact with a shallow groove on the side of his head that was bleeding sluggishly.

His head was bleeding? _Well, that's not good…_ Danny thought, grimacing as he gently probed the wound again; to his relief, the wound had already clotted, and dropping his hand wearily, he sighed slightly. Head wounds bled a lot, but thankfully, it was only a graze. He stiffened as another wave of pain exploded behind his eyes, and biting back a curse, he gritted his teeth wryly. Sure, it was just a graze, but it hurt like hell…

_Gotta sit up_, Danny told himself determinedly. He had a gut feeling that any movement would send more stabbing pains through his skull, but he was in a vulnerable position - which was a position Danny didn't like, at all - and gritting his teeth against the expected discomfort, he slowly pushed himself upright, but, as he expected, the throbbing intensified to a nearly unbearable level, sending flashes of white hot pain through his skull, and gasping through his painfully clenched jaw, he let himself slump backwards again, blinking back tears as his head struck the ground none-too gently in his rushed descent. He groaned in exasperation and pain as the blackness invaded the corners of his vision like an impending wave, before curling up on itself and rolling back slowly, revealing the shadowed sky again.

_...Ouch._

He took a shuddering breath, and fixed his eyes blankly on the waving branches above his head, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat as the pain began to dissipate slightly. _Bad idea_, he grunted wrly, teeth still clenched tightly, as he sucked in deep gulps of air, trying to regain control over his churning stomach. _Very bad idea_. The trees overhead nearly blocked out the sky, but between the leafy green branches, the dark sky loomed threateningly, and Danny squinted as he realized the meaning of the heavy, moist air, and the black sky.

_Oh. Gray light…_ Why the heck was he was lying on the ground in the middle of the jungle when it looked like one whopper of a storm was coming? He'd been in countless peculiar and unexplainable situations - especially since his move to Hawaii - but this was getting ridiculous. _A storm… what in the worl…_

_Oh god. The storm._

Suddenly, every detail of the past half hour swept over him in a chilling wave of shocking clarity, and with a lurch, Danny sat bolt upright, momentarily forgetting the crippling pain the action had caused before, and biting back a curse as it returned with vengeance; the sudden movement increased the throbbing behind his eyes, and exploded into the sensation of a knife being stabbed into his head, over and over.

"Ughh!" Unable to keep back the groan, Danny braced his arm against the ground behind him, and gripped his head with the other, panting as he tried to concentrate on anything other than the distracting throbbing that filled his skull, driving away all logical thought, and almost forcing him backwards towards the ground again. Words echoed through his head, replaying over and over; they were ingrained in fire behind his eyes as he remembered...

* * *

_"Uh, babe, I think it's going to storm." Worry clenching Danny's gut… he was frowning, as the dark haired man across from him suddenly sobered, and glanced upwards, his playful words dying on his lips as he gazed calculatingly at the sky._

_"I think you're right, Danny." A reassuring smile directed at him, followed by a not-so-reassuring statement. "It looks like it's gonna be a bad one, too."_

* * *

The storm, then the gunshots. Noises, panic, pain, then oblivion. If it wasn't for the agony pulsing through him, and the shocking realization of the gravity of the current situation, Danny would have laughed, but a groan emerged involuntarily from between his lips, ringing out harshly in the thick air. Every feeling coursing through his mind felt horribly familiar - not these exact circumstances, but the uncertainty, the worry, the mental anguish… all of it, he'd experienced in the past. The only sensation that told him that he wasn't reliving a previous nightmare was the crippling pain - worse than any he'd ever felt before, and definitely not imagined. Not again. The thought echoed through his mind over, and over._ Please, Steve, not again._

After a few tense moments of wondering if he was going to black out right there, clutching his head, the ache began to lessen, and taking a shuddering breath, Danny raised his head carefully, as he exhaled shakily, ignoring the taut muscles in his neck that complained at the movement. _That… was horrible_. He grimaced, bringing a trembling hand up to rub his throbbing temples. At least he was sitting up now; that was good. And he was alive, after all - which was pretty miraculous, considering that the groove on the side of his head had been made by a bullet. Yes, being alive was _always_ good.

But… what about…

With a shudder, Danny recalled the memory that had set his previous stupidly instinctive - and extremely painful - actions in motion just moments before, and he glanced around searchingly, worry flooding over him as the entire events of the previous half-hour replayed in his mind.

_Oh, god. Steve._

Gritting his teeth, Danny bit back a groan, and somehow managed to push himself to his feet. He staggered as the world swam, rolling and twisting like a ship on stormy waters. A pit of dread formed in his stomach, and he blinked rapidly to clear his frustratingly fuzzy vision, before pushing himself forward, stumbling awkwardly towards the edge of the steep bank as fast as he could. His legs trembled as his heart thudded in sync with the drum in his skull, and it took all his strength to keep himself upright, as his vision grayed, and wavered.

Stumbling over a rock, he pitched forward, and would have fallen but for the tree that was growing nearby, and Danny grabbed onto it desperately, pulling himself upright with a snarl. If he fell now, there was no way he was getting back up on his own. His breath coming in gasps as the pounding in his head matched the frantic beating of his heart, Danny shoved himself forward again determinedly, searching frantically for any sign of his friend.

"Steve?" Through the rushing in his ears, he listened nervously for any reply; any sign of life, any symbol of hope that would tell him if his friend was alive. Heck, if anyone could survive being shot, and then falling off a goshdang cliff, it would be Steve Mcgarrett, and goodness knows the freakin' idiot had survived much more than that, but he was only human, and luck ran out - even friggin-super-SEAL-Mcgarrett's... After all, a man could only play with fire for so long before he would get burned.

As he reached the edge of the cliff and peered downwards, he narrowed his eyes, squinting, as he searched desperately for the familiar form of his partner, dreading what he expected to see. _C'mon, babe… where are you?_ A cold wave of fear swept over him as he saw the hazy shape of what looked like a body 50 feet below him, and for a moment he stared at it, unable to move… wanting to, needing to, dreading to see what he thought might be the lifeless body of his best friend.

_Focus, Danny! _He shook himself angrily, pulling his mind away from what might be, and concentrating on what was. Steve wasn't dead; he couldn't be. _Damnit, c'mon, move!_ Throwing himself over the edge of the bank with hasty disregard for his own safety, Danny ignored the drum that was pounding in his head and the complaints of his aching muscles as he slid over the sharp rocks, scraping his legs and outstretched hands. He was almost forced to sit down down as the incline steepened sharply. One word repeated over and over in his head as he forced his heavy feet to move faster. _No. No. NO._

"Steve!" The worry in his chest exploded into full blown panic as his vision cleared for a moment, and he caught sight of the familiar tan cargo pants and blood soaked form of his friend. It _was_ Steve. "Steve, oh god!"

Through his wavering vision, he saw that his friend was leaning motionless – half sitting up – against the trunk of a huge tree that had apparently stopped his rolling descent 50 feet below the edge of the cliff. _He must have tried to stop the bleeding_, Danny realized, swallowing the lump in his throat as he saw that Steve had his button up shirt pressed against his right shoulder. There was so much blood - Steve's blood - and for a moment, Danny wondered if his friend could even be alive.

Mcgarrett's face was ashen, and the makeshift bandage wrapped around his shoulder and the ground next to him was stained with crimson liquid. Gasping harshly, Danny quickened his pace, only staying on his feet with a determined display of willpower as his knees trembled, and threatened to buckle. Pain was temporary. Discomfort could be ignored, but friends, especially someone like Steve, couldn't be replaced - ever. Time seemed to move in slow motion, as he rushed towards his fallen partner. "No, no, no no no, Steve!"

Coming to an abrupt stop, Danny's knees finally gave out, and he fell heavily to the ground next to his partner, sucking in deep breaths as his vision swam frustratingly, blurring everything in sight. "Come on, Steve..." Danny muttered, blinking rapidly, reaching out blindly until his fingers came in contact with something soft, and clammy. An arm.

Steve was unnaturally still, his strong body blood-stained, and limp; so unusually for the usually formidable, intimidating man. Danny couldn't remember ever seeing him so still. So peaceful, so quiet, so…

_No_. _Not dead. Not that._

Tremulously, Danny placed two fingers on Steve's sweat stained neck, searching frantically for a sign of life; the smallest ray of hope. He cursed his blurry vision silently, unable to see if his friend's chest was rising and falling as it should be, and the thought flashed through his mind that this could be the end of his partner.

The end of his best friend.

_No_. Danny rejected the idea vehemently, but for one horrible moment, he wondered if his worst fears were coming true: he felt nothing - _nothing_; Steve's skin was clammy under his searching fingers, but finally, he felt a faint thrumming under his fingertips. Exhaling sharply, Danny's shoulders slumped forward wearily as he placed a trembling hand on his friend's knee, and squeezed gently. The rhythm was too rapid, and dangerously faint, but it was there, nevertheless, pounding stubbornly._ He's alive. _The sudden relief left him lightheaded, and he had to brace himself against the ground to keep from falling over. _He's alive._

"Steve, babe, can you hear me? C'mon, SuperSEAL, wake up." Danny licked his lips. "Open your eyes, Steven. C'mon. Don't ignore me!"

He expected no response, but the blaring silence that answered back still unsettled him. The overwhelming relief that had washed over him a moment before faded with mocking swiftness as he once again noticed that blood was still dripping sluggishly down Steve's side. His gray t-shirt was already saturated with crimson, and the liquid was staining the top of his tan cargo pants. _Cargo pants. I should've known_. Danny choked back a bitter laugh. His throat was tight with so many emotions, he felt like they were choking him: fear, anger, desperation, bitterness, all rolling together in a whirling cloud of blackness.

_Why is it always you, babe…_

Blinking again, Danny forced himself to ignore the overwhelming flood of emotions. He had to be strong. Steve needed him - for once, the strongest man he'd ever known was helpless, and he was the only one who could help.

"Steve, can you hear me?" His words rang out sharply in the harsh stillness. "Hey! Not again, please, babe, c'mon." Danny muttered. He swallowed convulsively in a futile attempt to displace the lump in his throat, and gently gripping his friend's limp hand, he untangled Steve's crimson fingers from the blood soaked shirt, and pulled away the saturated fabric, revealing the extent of damage the bullet had done. "Steven, wake up, you can't sleep right now, SuperSEAL, we gotta get off his mountain, remember?"

Dismay swept over him as he caught sight of the gaping wound. The projectile had gone clean through Steve's muscled shoulder, leaving a ragged hole, and Danny swallowed back bile as he flicked his gaze quickly to his partner's ashen face, before focusing again on the discolored skin surrounding the edges of the wound. It looked horrible - worse than Danny had expected.

Groaning, Danny rubbed his temples wearily. _Only Steve._

Only Steve Mcgarrett could manage to get shot in the middle of the jungle, on a hiking trip; it was only barely past noon on a Saturday, and most normal people were just getting their day going. How did this kick-ass SEAL manage to find trouble - and dive into it headfirst - no matter where he went? _It's gonna get him killed_, Danny thought, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to block out the horrible image that was fixed in his head.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, and forced himself to focus again on the unnaturally still form before him. "You're not dying on me today, you stubborn idiot… not today."

First order of business: stop the bleeding.

Trembling in his haste, Danny hurriedly shrugged out of the pack that was still on his back, and found the shirt he had shed earlier. How had that been only a few hours before? It seemed like a lifetime ago...

With a grunt of exasperation, Danny shoved away his distracting thoughts with an effort, and clenched his fists. _Focus_. _Stay focused._

Glancing once more at Steve's lax face, Danny leaned forward, and gently wrapped the shirt firmly around Steve's shoulder, tying it as tightly as he dared. Dirt was clinging to the wound, but there was nothing that could be done about it at the moment; the steady bleeding was obviously the more worrisome problem. The wound needed to be cleaned thoroughly before it was bandaged, though, and Danny winced at the thought.

_Hopefully Steve has some antiseptic, and bandages in his pack – he seems to carry everything but the kitchen sink in that black bag of his, _he thought wryly, for once thankful for his friend's meticulous habits. Miraculously, the pack was lying only a few feet away. _What do ya know… some luck. Finally..._

"…D'nny…" Jumping as a husky voice spoke his name in a tone that depicted pure exhaustion, and stubborn determination, Danny raised his head swiftly. Still keeping his hand pressed firmly against the bleeding shoulder, he met the weary gaze of his friend as Steve's eyes drifted slowly open. The dark haired man blinked like a confused owl against the harsh light that met his eyes, and he squinted in confusion. "D'nny?" His voice barely audible and strained, Steve's entire body shook slightly with tremors, but his gaze was alert, and un-humanly sharp as he focused on the blond detective's face. His chest rose and fell shallowly with every shuddering breath.

"Steve!" Danny leaned forward anxiously, forgetting his own discomfort in the intense relief that flooded over him at the sound of Steve's voice. Looking searchingly at his friend's face, Danny's gaze flicked across the man's ashen features, frantically taking in the quivering lips, and tight lines of pain around Mcgarrett's blue eyes, as he exclaimed, "Oh God, you're awake!"

**TBC **

* * *

_A/N: Gosh, I love cliffhangers. ;) Oops._

_Also, I have a question for y'all... I have an unresolved predicament for the next part of the story. How are Steve and Danny going to get off the mountain? Should they make it down by themselves, and be met by an ambulance? Or should Danny drive Steve to the hospital? Or should Kono and Chin somehow help out... orrrr, something else entirely? Like, getting a helicopter up there to rescue our boys? The possibilities are endless, but I would love to know your thoughts, and opinions - or just what you'd like to see. :) Thank you again for reading... you guys make it all worth while. :) And once again, please review! :D xx_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: I really have no idea how long this story is going to be... I hope it's not moving too slowly for y'all, but I'm sure enjoying writing it. (In fact, I've stayed up until 1:30 in the morning the past 2 nights, writing. Haha.) Anyway, here's Chapter 6. Thanks for reading - you guys are undeniably awesome. And thank you so so so much for all the kind words on my last chapter, and for all the reviews, favorites and follows! Writing fanfiction has always (ha, always... in my vast 5 month experience of writing fanfics) been a little difficult for me, because the characters are not my own, and I feel so obligated by my own vast enjoyment of the show, and love for the characters to do it justice. Thus, the self-criticism. But can I just say... DANG. You guys are awesome. So kind, and encouraging and just... yeah. Unbelievably incredible. So, thank you. Anyway. ;) Enough of my rambling, and on to the story! x _

* * *

_Previously:_

_"…D'nny…" Jumping as a husky voice spoke his name in a tone that depicted pure exhaustion, and stubborn determination, Danny raised his head swiftly. Still keeping his hand pressed firmly against the bleeding shoulder, he met the weary gaze of his friend as Steve's eyes drifted slowly open. The dark haired man blinked like a confused owl against the harsh light that met his eyes, and he squinted in confusion. "D'nny?" His voice barely audible and strained, Steve's entire body shook slightly with tremors, but his gaze was alert, and un-humanly sharp as he focused on the blond detective's face. His chest rose and fell shallowly with every shuddering breath._

_"Steve!" Danny leaned forward anxiously, forgetting his own discomfort in the intense relief that flooded over him at the sound of Steve's voice. Looking searchingly at his friend's face, Danny's gaze flicked across the man's ashen features, frantically taking in the quivering lips, and tight lines of pain around Mcgarrett's blue eyes, as he exclaimed, "Oh god, you're awake!"_

* * *

Steve's pale face constricted at Danny's exuberant exclamation, and Danny realized with a sympathetic grunt that he was practically yelling. His ears were still ringing, and remembering his earlier observation of the white noise in his ears, and unnatural silence, Danny realized his hearing must have been affected by the noise of the gunshots; or the bullet that taken a chunk out of his head. That could've done it too.

"Oh, sorry," Danny lowered his voice, taking in every detail of the face before him with a scrutinizing, concerned gaze. "How do you feel, babe?" The ex-SEAL's eyes were wandering over the surrounding landscape distractedly, but they returned to Danny's face with a slightly dazed expression on his ashen features at the question. Steve's lips quirked slightly, and Danny winced mentally. _Really? 'How do you feel'? Well done, Danny._

It was a dumb question, really - a stupid, obvious question - and Danny felt silly for even asking it. But he needed to hear Steve say _it_, like he did every other goshdarn time. He needed to hear him say those words; those two, unbelievable, expected words that were on Steve's lips every time someone inquired about his health. _"I'm fine." _Danny knew this time Steve was anything but _fine, _but he hoped his partner's false words would reassure him, and keep him focused. Staying calm was important. For both of them.

"…Like… I've… been shot, Danno..." Steve grunted painfully, his breath hitching as he tried to steady his voice. The sharp _inhale, exhale _of his strained breathing sounded harsh in the serene, empty air. _So, he's actually not gonna say it this time, _Danny thought, hoping his face was deceivingly serene in spite of his surprise. As much as Steve's stoic denial of pain annoyed him any other time, he almost wished his partner had spoken those two, obnoxiously repetitive words; maybe then he could have half-believed it. Maybe then, he could have convinced himself that their current situation wasn't all _that _bad… that it wasn't completely hopeless.

Taking a deep breath, Danny fought to contain his worry behind a mask of collected surety, but he was sure his pain, fear, and worry was pasted blatantly all over his face. It was so unusual for Steve to admit he was in pain - and that was basically what he had just done, purposely or not; the man before him was definitely not 'fine', even by his own standards. Danny focused on Steve as the SEAL spoke again, his voice breathless. "Danny… you're… alive…"

"Of course I'm alive, you jerk, but you, on the other hand, seem to be trying your hardest _not _to be." His words were gruff, but Danny kept his tone soothing in an attempt to reassure the wounded man. The corner of Steve's mouth twitched, but Danny couldn't tell if it was in pain, or amusement… maybe it was a result of both.

Steve grunted, wearily fighting off the blackness that was still clinging to his consciousness, feeding off his pain, and exhaustion. Every movement - even something as simple as bringing his blond partner's worried face into focus - took a huge amount of effort. He frowned as his vision cleared, and he took in his friend's pained expression: the blood that matted the usually perfect blond hair, and ran down his face. "Y-you alright? I thought… you were dead."

Danny blinked, surprised. _But how…_ "You thought I was… wait, you were doing all that thinking about me while you were here, unconscious, sitting against a tree in the middle of this god-forsaken jungle? I'm not dead, as you can see, so stop worrying about me, okay?" Danny forced a tight-lipped smile, and ignored his throbbing head determinedly. "Worry about yourself, for once, hmm? I'm fine." _God,_ he grunted silently,_ I'm starting to sound like Steve. _

Steve narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. "You… look like… hell…" he rasped a moment later, his voice cracking as he squinted blearily, still eyeing his friend calculatingly. A small smile touched his pale lips, and he asked teasingly, "You been… playing… football?"

Danny shook his head, and chuckled wryly as he thought back to his previous muddled thoughts when he had first regained consciousness. "No, just a run-in with a friendly sniper, you know, nothing out of the ordinary on this Saturday morning in the crazy life of Danny Williams." He raised his eyebrows, and gestured with his chin at Steve's blood soaked form. "And, just for your information, you aren't exactly a model specimen for any beauty contests at the moment either, Rambo."

Steve's weak chuckle was interrupted by a sharp gasp that emerged from between clenched teeth as Danny adjusted his grip on the temporary bandage, pressing down more firmly on his partner's shoulder. "Sorry, sorry," Danny murmured apologetically, wincing in sympathy. "I'm sorry, babe."

The sight of Steve's tense, agonized features sent renewed rage and determination flooding over him as he thought of the sick SOB who had done this. He'd better be running as far and as fast as he could, because when Danny caught up with him, he'd would wish he had never heard the name "Danny Williams", or "Steve Mcgarrett". And more importantly, he would wish he had never, _ever_ set foot in Hawaii.

Steve exhaled shakily, his voice shuddering as he replied wearily, "Not your fault, Danno." He raised his eyes again to the blond detective's face, and asked with tenacious concern, "You sure you're okay? Your head is bleeding." His voice was shallow, but even, and controlled, and his emotions were once again hidden behind the typical impenetrable mask of grim determination.

Danny shook his head in wonder. "_I'm _bleeding? Okay, just for the record, you clearly need to get your priorities straight, babe. _You_ are the one who has practically bled out all over the jungle floor, okay, so don't be pointing a finger at this tiny scratch; it's fine, alright? Nothing for you to worry about at the moment."

Steve's eyes fluttered weakly as an overwhelming flood of weariness swept over him, dragging him downwards towards the awaiting darkness persistently. He tried to pull his lips upwards into a smile, but only succeeded in a weak imitation of his intended expression as Danny continued speaking, his gaze still directed at Steve's blood-stained shoulder,

"But yes, Steven, that's what generally happens when you get grazed in the head by a bullet. Just… don't worry about me, okay? I'll be fine."

Blinking lethargically, Steve grunted, unconvinced, but let the matter drop. Danny was still speaking, his lips forming words with his usual smart-alec tenacity, but Steve was too tired to concentrate. All he wanted to do was go sleep, and let the pain fade away into nothingness.

But he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

Pulling himself back from the brink of beckoning oblivion with an effort, he tried to focus again on what Danny was saying, summoning all his willpower to ignore the chills that wracked his body, setting him on fire and chilling him to the bone at the same time. Danny was saying something about the governor, and the mountain; rambling, as he usually did in stressful situations - in _any _situation, actually… but how long had he been talking?

"... and I'm telling you, we are _never _coming up to this mountain again, alright, I'm going to have the governor close this entire tree-infested, maniac sniper-hideout, godforsaken place." Danny waved his free hand through the air dramatically. "What are the chances of someone else - someone else meaning _you _\- getting killed on this oversized rock if no one is allowed on it? You've already given it your best shot twice."

As he spoke mindlessly in the hopes of reassure Steve - as well as himself - that everything was okay, Danny felt the tremors that coursed Steve's body under his fingertips, and concern flooded over him again in a chilling wave. A look of faint amusement spread over the SEAL's white face, but his next words seemed strained - as if merely speaking took a tremendous amount of effort - and Danny bit his lip to keep himself from telling the man to just stop talking, for goshs' sake.

"On what grounds… Danno?" Steve grunted, secretly amused at his partner's wild hand gestures. "It's a mountain, not… a park. It can't just be closed off, alright. It doesn't happen around here."

"On what grounds? On the grounds that this mountain is bad luck, that's what grounds, Steven! Or maybe it's just haunted by ghost snipers who shoot at random people when they pass their homes." _On what grounds? _Wasn't the fact that the gosh-darn idiot was bleeding out before his eyes reason enough?

"I… don't think the governor is gonna buy that, Danny," Steve sighed, his voice reflecting the level of his exhaustion for a single, unguarded moment. "I-it's a Hawaiian landmark."

"Well, he's gonna have to do something," Danny said firmly. "Maybe he just needs to forbid _you_ from _ever _stepping foot on this mountain again. That would work too, and that would probably ensure everyone else's safety as well since trouble seems to follow you around like a cloud." Raising his head for a brief moment, he shot a glance at his partner's face, and to his concern, Steve only grunted, his eyes closing wearily as he exhaled shakily, and appeared to drift off.

"No, no. Hey, Steve," Danny leaned forward worriedly, his voice rising as he spoke, "Keep your eyes open, okay, babe, don't go to sleep." _No. DO NOT go to sleep. You'll never wake up again if you do. _He pushed the fleeting thought away."Y'hear me? Open those baby blues, Steven, c'mon. We've got work to do, and I can't have you sleeping on the job; what would the governor say?"

Steve didn't open his eyes, but he grunted weakly in acknowledgement, raising his left hand laboriously and waving aside Danny's bossy tone with a weak gesture. "D-don't worry," His voice held a terrifying gasping quality. "I'm not going to sleep."

"You're not, huh? Then open your eyes." Danny managed a tight smile, relieved that the man still had enough strength to be annoyed, as the next moment, Steve's voice gained a slight biting edge and he repeated testily,

"I said I'm not going to… sleep, Danno, okay? I'm just resting."

"How do I know that?" Danny blew out a shaky breath between his lips. "Your eyes are closed, okay, that usually means a person is falling asleep - unless the rules are different in the Army. Normal people don't sit around with their eyes closed unless they're trying to catch some shut-eye, or just really need to block out the big, bad world."

The ex-SEAL's eyebrows inched upwards, and Steve grunted with impatience as he raised his head arduously, and focused again on the blond man's worried features, his unfocused blue eyes wandering slowly over his friend's face. "Navy, Danny. It's still the Navy. And I'm talking. T-That's how you… know I'm awake. Most people don't talk… in their… sleep."

"You're talking? Not at the moment, you aren't." Danny raised his eyebrow pointedly, holding Steve's wavering gaze, and allowing himself a small smile. Even half-unconscious, in agonizing pain, and moments away from bleeding out, the man was still as sharp as tack. The ex-SEAL wasn't about to let a mistake concerning his time in the _Navy _pass, especially when Danny was in such a habit of confusing the two branches of the military. "At the moment, I am talking – my lips are moving, my vocal chords are working, and _I _am the one speaking. So, therefore, you are _not _talking right now."

"That's how a conversation… works, you know. It usually requires… two people… exchanging words." Steve stiffened, and gasped harshly as a wave of pain washed across the shadowed features. His lips were tight with agony, and the usually shadowed circles under his eyes were darker than usual, and more pronounced against his chalky face as he fought to hide his agony behind the habitual mask of indifference. He only half-succeeded, and the brief struggle seemed to have sapped even more of his little strength, and he slumped backwards the next moment, lips parted as he gasped for breath.

Danny's heart clenched painfully inside his chest. His next smart-ass remark was lost in the depths of his overwhelming worry, and he swallowed thickly to wet his dry mouth, saying hoarsely, "Yeah, okay, sure, babe." Surprise swept over Steve's face at the unexpectedly calm reply, but Danny ignored it. He was still applying pressure to the wound, and now he noticed with concern that the shirt under his palm was now damp with blood – which meant the wound was _still _bleeding.

_Dang_. How much blood could a man lose before it killed him? Danny didn't intend to find out, but that meant he had to stop the bleeding, and to do that, he had to bandage the wound with something more than a wadded up shirt. He raised his eyes momentarily to the dark-haired man's face, and saw Steve's eyes were once again closed, his jaw set determinedly, but the usually carefully concealed agony was crystal clear on his taut face.

"Oh, Steve…" Danny murmured softly, blinking rapidly to clear the drops that had suddenly come to his eyes.

The sight of his partner's pain unsettled him even more than their current situation did. Sure, their present circumstances were anything but ideal, but Steve was freakin' Superman. Nothing got him down. Nothing. Pain was something Steve took no notice of. He scorned weakness, and drove himself with a tremendous force of willpower, and determination, overcoming fear, pain, and obstacles that would hinder any lesser man. Nothing stopped him - nothing put him out of the game.

At least, so Danny had thought before.

Before that one, fateful moment changed what he had thought was set in stone in a single horrifyingly clear instant, and wove a new reality - a reality that brought the utter, tangible, fragile truth of life into full focus.

Someone as vibrant, charismatic, completely annoying, and so utterly... alive... as Steve should not be lying on the ground in his own blood struggling to find the strength to speak. Danny wasn't sure if he would ever get the horrible image out of his head. If they both survived, maybe there was a chance to move on, and forget… if Steve died… he was sure the memories of that day would be irrevocably fixed in his brain forever.

Shaking his head firmly, Danny dismissed the thought, and raised his head. Steve was watching him again, his eyes surprisingly vulnerable and questioning as he took in his partner's tortured, agonized expression. "Is that _your_... aneurism face?" Steve grunted, his lips twitching slightly.

Grinning wearily in spite of himself, Danny just shook his head. "No. This is my "worried-to-death-about-Steve-Mcgarrett" face. You should recognize it by now, since I'm usually walking around with it pasted on my face 24/7."

Steve grunted his response, and blinked slowly as his eyes threatened to slide shut.

Throwing another worried glance Steve's direction, Danny returned his gaze to the still oozing wound, and inspected it tentatively. _Dangit, _he thought, seeing that it was still bleeding. _How much blood can come from such a small hole. Gotta stop that, and soon. Like, now, soon. _

"Babe, are there bandages in your pack?" Danny raised his eyes slowly, wincing as his aching head rebelled against the slight movement. "I need to stop this bleeding, okay, and this shirt really isn't cutting it."

"Mm. Y-yeah. Front… pocket, left side." Steve's head had fallen backwards against the trunk of tree again, and his dark eyelashes glistened with sweat against his pale cheeks. Danny cursed silently, fighting back his desperation as he realized his partner was struggling to stay conscious. It was only a matter of time before Steve's weakening body gave up under the strain, exhaustion and intense agony, and began shutting down. _Hell, no. _Danny growled to himself. _He's not gonna die today; not if I can help it._

"Steve, stay awake, okay, you can't go to sleep right now. I need you to talk to me, okay? I'm gonna have to bandage this wound before you bleed out, alright?" Danny glanced longing at Steve's black pack, and then back to his friend's face. "I know you love Hawaii, but watering the plants with your blood isn't a very smart thing to do, alright, not now, and not ever."

Silence. Steve gave no indication he'd heard Danny's sharp words; in fact, he didn't graced Danny with a response of any kind, and panicking, Danny leaned forward, his voice rising sharply as he asked, "Hey, Steven, you with me?"

Mcgarrett's eyes fluttered weakly. "Y-yeah." His breath coming in gasping heaves, Steve forced out the word from between trembling lips, and Danny's heart clenched at the unreal reality of something as simple as speaking exhausting the more-than-human man.

With a shuddering sigh, Danny lowered his voice slightly in relief, and spoke reassuringly. "Good, you stay with me, okay? I need your help. Stay awake. Here," Reaching across Steve's body and gripping his partner's left wrist, Danny gently removed his own blood stained fingers from Steve's blood-soaked shoulder and replaced his hand with Steve's. "Keep pressure on here, okay? I'm gonna grab your pack, and see what I can find in there to stop the bleeding, and then we'll get out of here, okay?"

Steve licked his lips laboriously. He could feel himself weakening by the moment, and his veins seemed to be full of ice-water, and hot lava at the same time. Danny was speaking, but his voice sounded like it came from far away, and it took too much effort to reply, so he just nodded his head once.

"Hey," Danny shook Steve gently, but firmly. "Hey, hey, I thought you just said you were awake, Steven. This is not awake. Open your eyes, partner and talk to me. You gotta keep pressure on that wound, y'hear, or you'll bleed out, and I really can't have that happening right now, can I?"

"Hmm." Steve grunted.

"No, no, that does not qualify as talking; it barely even goes in the same category as mumbling."

With a sigh, Steve forced his bleary eyes open, and directed all his force into a dark glare, his chest heaving as he forced out the next words. "J-just… get the bag… D'nny, okay. Y-you have to s-stop the bleeding, or I-I'm gonna…" His words were cut off as he gritted his teeth, and allowed his eyes to drift shut again.

"Okay, okay, but you stay awake, y'hear, no sleeping," Reluctantly Danny tore himself away, and pushed himself frantically to his feet. Scrambling recklessly over to the abandoned bag, and snagging it with hurried fingers, he rushed back to his partner's side, the pounding in his head doubling with his clumsy footsteps as he tripped over the uneven hill slope.

Danny ignored Steve's strained "wasn't that hard, was it?" comment, and crouching down again, he hurriedly located the small roll of white bandages, and a small bottle of antiseptic. Holding the items in his hands, Danny suddenly hesitated, wishing he was a thousand miles away… anywhere but here, watching his best friend struggle for every breath.

He groaned to himself, and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. This entire situation brought back memories - things he had blocked out of his mind, and tried to forget. Things he'd thought he _had _forgotten. But here he was… another partner - another friend - bleeding before his eyes, trusting him, depending on him. But in spite of his best efforts, his previous partner – Grace – had been killed. The guilt had followed him around, haunting him for months, but now he felt as if he was re-living the same experience, in a different lifetime. He'd failed before, but he darn well wasn't going to fail this time.

He wouldn't be able to live with it, if he did.

"Y-you okay?"

Realizing his eyes were still closed, Danny choked back a strangled laugh, and raised his head, peering into the depths of Steve's dark, pain-sharpened eyes as the injured man gazed at him with undisguised worry. "Yeah, yeah." Danny waved aside Steve's question. "Yeah, I'm fine. But this is gonna hurt, babe." _A lot. _

"J-just do it…" Steve gritted his teeth in preparation for the onslaught of pain, but still, Danny hesitated, torn between wondering if cleaning the wound at the moment would help in the long run, or make it worse. He knew it would only increase Steve's pain, and in spite of the man's incredible stamina, Danny wasn't sure if he could handle any more; he was almost speechless with pain as it was.

Kicking himself for his own weakness, Danny sighed, then asked hesitantly, "Should I clean it first? You have antiseptic here, but it'll hurt like hell, and I don't..." he trailed off, unable to continue.

Steve uttered a muffled groan from between his tightly clenched teeth, and gasped out, "Y-yeah. J-just do it. It h-has to be… cleaned, or infection… w-will set in."

"Steve, are you sure? I'm not a paramedic, or…"

Barely able to form the words, Steve forced a stiff nod, making the motion as reassuring as he possible could. "D'nny, c'mon. I-I'm sure, okay? Please. D-do it. I-I can take it."

"You sure?"

Steve's blue eyes bored into Danny with a suddenly fiery gaze, and his voice was firm. "I'm sure."

Danny swallowed dryly to quell his uncertainly, and finally nodded reluctantly. "…Okay."

Gritting his teeth, and murmuring a choked, "Sorry, babe", Danny did as he was told, and a moment later, a harsh, aching cry echoed through the jungle, ringing out with heart-wrenching force. It was quickly swallowed by the gathering storm clouds, and rising wind as Steve Mcgarrett slumped backwards bonelessly, surrendering once more to the welcoming oblivion that – for the moment – erased the pain, the unease, the worry, and left behind only blessed, peaceful darkness.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: Oh, and thank you all for your suggestions concerning how the rescue should play out. I'm still working out the next pieces of the story, but you guys helped me tremendously. I would love to know if you have any more suggestions or ideas, and as always, please review! ;) 3_


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. I've written it about 4 times, and wasn't happy with the way it turned out, so I finally just had to post something, and stop changing it. ;) haha. {And posting it helps, because then you're forced to leave it as it is. SO.} I've been insanely busy, and I wrote this all today (I'M SO TIRED) so I apologize for the mistakes. Hope it's not too confusing. ;) Thank you ALL so much for the tremendous amount of reviews, and all the support. (And to those of you who asked me not to end this too quickly, no worries. I'm only about a third of the way done with it. I think. ;))_

* * *

All Steve wanted to do was stay where he was; for once, he couldn't think of any reason to force himself into consciousness. There were no deadlines, no voices, no alarms. He was surrounded by silence, light enough to float on, and heavy enough to keep him where he was. He was comfortable, actually; at least, he thought he was. He felt nothing, he remembered nothing, and he wanted nothing more than to stay there forever, drifting in the middle of sweet oblivion, surrounded by silence. Peaceful, blessed silence. He felt like he was wrapped in a blanket of nothingness - a thick quilt that smothered him, and set him free at the same time.

And yet in the midst of it all, something had disturbed him. The sound of his name, being spoken from a great distance, echoing and rolling as if the voice itself was alive. Calling to him, in a tone of stubborn persistence. _That voice. _He knew that voice.

"Steven, time to wake up. Hey, SuperSEAL, open your eyes, please."

Steve grunted, and shifted restlessly, gritting his teeth as a wave of pain rewarded the small movement. The discomfort died away a moment later, and Steve realized something: if he stayed where he was, there was no pain. There was nothing, in fact. Absolutely nothing. But that voice... _Who is that? _The blackness surrounding him was thick, but at the sound of the familiar voice, it began to clear slightly, swirling and fluttering as it reluctantly withdrew from the center of his consciousness, spreading outwards sluggishly.

"Steven, come on buddy, time to wake up. Open your eyes."

_Open your eyes. _Steve grunted. Easier said than done. Something... something told him he had to obey any command that was spoken in such an unyielding tone, but couldn't remember the last time anything had taken such an effort - it took too much strength to obey; strength he didn't have - so he gave up on the idea. _I'm sorry._ His eyelids were as heavy as concrete, and the voice breaking through his clouded thoughts wavered as it pleaded, and begged for him to wake up. _Whoever you are, I hear you._

"It's me, Steve. It's Danny. C'mon babe, you gotta wake up. There's a storm coming, remember, and I'm not a friggin' mountain man on steroids like you are, and I don't know these god-forsaken haunts like the back of my hand, so you see, I really need your help right now." The black cloud was lifting to one of grey haze, and Steve suddenly felt a comforting touch on his shoulder; a solid pressure that grounded him, bringing him back towards light, reality, and, oh… _pain._

_Danny? Is that you? _Steve couldn't keep back a groan as the last blackness faded from his mind, leaving him vulnerable to the agony that was making itself known with stabs of pain that roared through his body, and took his breath away. His heartbeat increased instantly, pounding frantically - and yet, weakly - in his chest like a drum as he ran his tongue over his dry lips. His eyes were still heavy… too heavy, but the pain had brought him back to awareness more quickly that he'd thought possible.

"Come on, SuperSEAL. It's time to wake up." That voice again, the words spoken with a touch of panic, as cool fingers found a place on his wrist where his pulse thrummed wildly. Steve groaned again, pain lancing through him as he shifted restlessly, trying to escape the relentless commands of his partner.

_Danny, leave me alone. _Had he spoken out loud? He didn't think he had, but somehow Danny had heard him. Or so it seemed.

"Don't panic, babe. Deep breaths. I'm not going to leave you alone until you open your eyes, and look at me, so don't even get the idea that you can ignore me, Steven. I know you can hear me."

So, was Danny a mind reader now? The man couldn't even read an obvious facial expression at times, so that explanation didn't make sense. Steve licked his lips again, and tried to speak, but his mouth felt like he'd swallowed sawdust, and all that came from between his lips was a sigh. _I'm tired. Go away._

There was a pause, and Steve felt the comforting pressure of a hand on his knee, and Danny's voice took on a pleading tone. "Please, Steve, c'mon babe, open your eyes. I need your help, alright and I don't know what to do unless you wake up."

_You need my help?_

Those words brought back memories. _I need your help. _Four words that rang in his mind, and stirred up something Steve couldn't ignore, even if he wanted to. His body screamed at him, begging him to let go, and sink back into the thick oblivion that dulled the pain, and erased the harsh, unyielding reality he'd been forced into, but his mind - and his heart - wouldn't let him. Someone needed him. _Danny... _his best friend needed him, and he would do anything to help if he could.

But the pain... it was almost enough to blot out all thoughts, all emotions, any trace of his usual stubborn tenacity that forced him to do everything that was humanly possible when anyone he loved needed him.

_Danny. I can't. _Once again, he tried to speak, but he couldn't make his lips form the words.

It was almost as if Danny had heard his silent reply, and refused to acknowledge his admission of defeat. "You can do it. Come on, Steve, wake up and open those baby blues for me."

_Baby blues? Really, Danny? I'm not five. _A wave of dull amusement swept through Steve, and in response to Danny's plea, he struggled with renewed effort to find the strength to open his eyes, but the force he needed to break free of the enfolding darkness was still out of his reach. _I can't do it, Danny. _Desperation washed over him - along with the sensation he hated most: _helplessness -_ and he felt like he was running a marathon as his breathing quickened. He couldn't seem to find enough oxygen in the air around him, and he struggled to overcome the fear and exasperating weakness that had a hold on him as he gasped for each breath. _I can't do it._

Fingers gripped his shoulder, and a hand found his, squeezing so tightly it was almost painful, but the pressure was comforting, and Danny's voice accompanied the grounding touch, calming, reassuringly steady and familiar as he spoke in a low, soothing tone, "Hey, hey, calm down. It's okay. Breathe. Take deep breaths."

Those commands Steve could obey, and he did, choking down the persistent panic that still had a hold of him determinedly. _Calm down. _"That's it, you're okay, Steve, you're fine." Danny's voice was still calmly soothing, but Steve heard the fear that had woven itself amongst the words. "Good, that's it. Now, come on, open your eyes, you big dope."

Frowning slightly, Steve wrinkled his brow, and with a superhuman effort, forcefully pushed away the never-ending pain, and focused on the task before him; something as simple as opening his eyes shouldn't be that hard, but at the moment, he couldn't remember anything that had ever been more difficult. It was just pain - a hinderance, an obstacle, something he had ignored in the past, something he had to ignore again. _Ignore it. Open your eyes, Steve._

"Steven, please. Talk to me."

Steve couldn't believe his ears, and for a moment he thought maybe it was just his imagination. Danny, begging him to wake up? Normally it would have been amusing - Danny didn't beg, he demanded - but the unmistakable fear and the stark concern and worry in his tone helped Steve overcome the last barrier barring him from the light that was already growing behind his weighted eyelids.

_Dangit, Danny, _Steve sighed, and taking a shallow breath, he inhaled as much oxygen as he could into his lungs before gritting his teeth, and slowly forcing his heavy eyelids open. He tried to bite back a strangled groan, but it emerged involuntarily as he blinked weakly, trying to bring the hazy form before him into focus. He knew who it was, though.

_Danny._

Of course it was Danny. Who else would it be?

"Steve! Babe, you with me?" The blurred figure leaned forward, and Steve could hear the combination of eagerness and strangled fear in Danny's tone as he repeated his question. "Steven, are you with me?"

Swallowing thickly, Steve blinked again and grunted painfully before he finally found his voice. It was rough, and husky with disuse, and he just managed to force out the words from between his clenched teeth. "Y-yeah," he took another shuddering breath. "Y-yeah, D-D'nno, I-I'm here."

* * *

Glancing in her rearview mirror, Kono Kalakaua skillfully maneuvered her car around two large trucks that were hogging the road, ignoring the indignant beeping that met her ears, and tapped her fingers cheerfully on the steering wheel of her small car as she hummed to herself. Keeping one eye on the road, she lifted her phone from the adjoining passenger seat, and glanced casually at the screen to see if the members of her team had contacted her yet, but the screen was empty: no new notifications.

The Five-0 team was supposed to meet at HQ at 1:30 to finish up some paperwork that had been left over from the previous week, and now, at 12:30, she was headed that direction after spending a few hours at the beach, surfing. It had been a crazy 5 days, and there was more than the usual overwhelming paperwork to catch up on, especially since she had been forced to take a few days off due to a horrid cold. She hadn't been too sick; it had just made her miserable enough to force her to take a few days off, and although she hadn't been gone long, her absence had set the entire team behind.

Glancing in her mirror again, and dropping the phone into her lap carelessly, a slight smile touched Kono's lips as she thought of amusing conversation that had taken place that morning in the main room of HQ, the entire team gathered around the smart table. She was still rather surprised at the turn of events. Steve announced that he was taking half the day off to take a hike up the mountain, and she could still see his casual stance, as he deliberately avoided looking at the mixture of amusement and surprise reflected on the faces of his friends when he'd informed them of his intentions.

Sure, it was a Saturday, and most people were resting after a busy week of hectic activity, but to Mcgarrett, all days were work days. It had surprised them _all_ that Steve's "plan" was to take a hike up the mountain; they were sure he would have wanted to get right to work.

* * *

**_4 hours earlier:_**

"Really? You're going to take half a day off and go for a hike? I'm surprised, Steve." Chin raised his eyebrows in surprise, as he threw an amused, but puzzled glance at Kono who returned his expression with glee, and secret relief. Steve never took time off for himself. Never. The current case, the job, and his team came above his own personal needs, and truth be told, they were all thrilled he was actually doing something for _him_. He needed some time off, even if all he was going to be doing was climbing a mountain with the same breakneck headlong intensity as he did everything else. He had strange ideas of what 'fun' was.

"Yes, Chin," Steve answered firmly, keeping his voice controlled, and resolutely ignoring the amused glances of his teammates as he fiddled with the release on his gun. "I am going for a hike, but I'll be back here by 1:30 to work on the paperwork, and-"

"Oh, you're going to do the paperwork?" Danny leaned forward, and raised an eyebrow at the dark haired man. "That's so kind of you, Steven, to volunteer. You know, I was going to do it, since today is free for me, but since you volunteered…"

"Danny," Steve shook his head impatiently at the interruption and turned impatiently to glare at the blond man who was standing a few feet away, "if you would have let me finish, I was going to say we _all_ need to be back here by 1:30. We have some things to discuss about this last case, and just a few things to finish up before we're done for the weekend. It shouldn't take long." A slight smile crossing his lips, Steve cocked his head, and squinted calculatingly at the blond man. "Do you think you can make it, or do you have a previous engagement?"

"'A previous engagement'," Danny raised his eyebrows, screwing up his face in a comical expression as he mimicked his partner's condescending tone, "Like, I don't know, an engagement like… _life_? It might annoy you to hear this, but 'work' is not 'life' to everyone, Steven. You are the only one I know who loves work. You spend all your free time working, and I tell you, I don't understand it. I happen to have a day off, and I actually like having nothing to do, so that is what I intend to do. _Nothing_. You probably don't understand that concept."

"As I was telling you," Steve ignored the shorter man's rantings, and turned back to Chin and Kono, rolling his eyes as he repeated himself forcefully, "I'm going on a hike," he threw a glare Danny's direction, before refocusing on the cousins who were still watching him, their faces taut with concealed mirth, "and I'll be back by 1:30, and if it works for you, we'll finish up here, and then be done for the weekend."

"Sounds good," Kono nodded in satisfaction. She would have time to get a few hours of surfing in, and still be back in time.

"Sounds good, boss," Chin echoed, his lips twitching in amusement.

"Okay, then." Steve nodded in satisfaction, and turned his attention to Danny who was glaring at the smart-table before him, an expression of annoyance on his face as he studiously ignored the conversation that was being carried on without him. "Danny, what are you doing today?"

Raising his head, Danny lifted an eyebrow, and straightened his back, as he gestured sharply through the air with a slashing motion. "Didn't you just hear me, Steven? I have a free day. Nothing to do. Nothing at all."

"Good," Steve nodded, his lips quivering with amusement. "Then you can come with me on the hike. It'll be good for you. Beautiful mountain, perfect weather, not too hot, or too cold."

"No." Immediately, Danny shook his head forcefully, and raised his hands, palms facing outwards, as if it would physically block Steve's suggestion. "No, no, no. No way, Steven, are you out of your mind? Never again, y'hear me? There is no way you're getting me up there on that mou-"

"C'mon Danny," Steve took a step towards his friend, and waved aside Danny's statement with a casual flip of his hand, raising his eyebrows and smiling convincingly. "It'll be fun. And besides, if you come, I promise I'll buy the food next time. How 'bout that."

"Wow," Kono grinned broadly, "That's quite an offer, boss."

"It sure is. And besides," Chin interjected, a small smile on his usually stoic face as he leaned forward, and planted his hands on the empty smart table screen before him, "You just said you weren't doing anything." He smiled disarmingly, then clamped his mouth shut as Danny shot him a quick, warning glance.

"No," Danny repeated forcefully, directing his death-glare at Steve again. "Absolutely not."

"Chin, yeah, you know what, that's right. Thank you," Nodding, Steve ignored Danny and threw an amused glance at Chin and Kono, winking conspiratorially, before facing his blond partner again. "It'll be fun. Come on." He chuckled at the sour expression on the blond man's face. "Good old fashioned hike, great exercise, beautiful day. What's not to like?"

"No."

"Danny, c'mon…"

"No." Danny shook his head, and crossed his arms stubbornly. There was no way he was going back up on that mountain, especially not on his day off. If Steve wanted to waste perfectly good relaxing time climbing cliffs, it was up to him, but he would much rather prefer to stay home, and _rest._

"I'll buy sushi," Steve offered, in hopes of tempting his partner as he raised his eyebrows, and waited for Danny's reply. He could see his partner wavering, but still, the blond man hesitated, and exhaling sharply with a grunt of exasperation, Steve said, "Fine, fine. Stay if you want. You'll miss out. But since you have nothing to do, you might as well finish up the paperwork here by yourself, huh? I'm sure Chin and Kono have other things to do, and since your day is free..." He let the words hang in the air, a slight smile spreading over his lips as he crossed his arms and inclined his head, taking in Danny's suddenly fiercely annoyed expression. "So, what's it gonna be, Danno? You coming on the hike or not?"

Danny pursed his lips, and glowered darkly, taking in his partner's mischievous expression with a cautious glance. He didn't want to go hiking - especially not on the same mountain where Steve had broken his arm - but he would much rather do the paperwork when the entire team was there to help. "Alright," he finally agreed, taking a step forward. "Alright. Fine," He poked Steve in the chest, and raised an eyebrow at his partner's annoying pleased expression. "But you're buying me sushi. And if you happen to forget your wallet, I'm leaving you there until you do enough dishes to pay for the food. _Steven_."

Steve batted away Danny's finger, and grinned, nodding once as he crossed his arms across his chest with a pleased expression. "Fine. Done." Grinning broadly, he turned back to Chin and Kono, and perceived that they had watched the entire exchange with undisguised amusement. Grunting in embarrassment, Steve wiped the smile off his face, and coughed hoarsely, then cleared his throat, and waved his hand through the air dismissively. "Good. We'll be back later. I'll call you if something changes." Already moving out the door, Steve threw a backwards glance over his shoulder, and grinned exultingly as his glowering, reluctant partner. "Coming?"

* * *

**Present time:**

With a slight shake of her head, Kono carefully guided the car onto the exit ramp that lead to HQ, periodically checking her mirrors as she smoothly changed lanes. Steve and Danny were more amusing than many of the "professional comedians" she had heard, but she knew their friendly bantering and arguments only concealed the firm friendship, and brotherly affection the two men had for each other. _I wonder what they've gotten into up on that mountain, _she thought, chuckling to herself. Steve had a propensity for getting into trouble wherever he went, and she was sure Danny would be ranting and raving about something reckless the man had done by the time they arrived.

The buzz of her phone against her leg made her jump, and she fished around in her lap blindly until her fingers came in contact with the cool, plastic object. Grabbing it, and glancing down hurriedly at the screen, she grunted in surprise at the name that appeared. Why was Chin calling? He was supposed to be working on his roof today. And they would see each other at HQ in just a few minutes.

Punching the green "answer" button while keeping one hand on the steering wheel, Kono pressed the phone against her ear. "Hey, cuz, what's up?"

"Kono!" Chin's voice was calm, as usual, but with a feeling of unease, Kono noted that his tone was slightly more tense than usual, and he seemed to be immensely relieved at the sound of her voice.

"Chin, is something wrong?" Kono asked, unconsciously gripping the steering wheel tighter as she waited for him to reply, her mind automatically running over everything that could've gone wrong since she'd talked to him that morning.

Her worst fears were allayed the next moment as he said hurriedly, "No, no, nothing's wrong." His tone was suddenly apologetic, and with a sigh, she relaxed slightly, and brushed aside a wayward tendril of hair that was sticking to her damp face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you... only..." Once again, he hesitated, and Kono frowned. It wasn't like Chin to be secretive, and there was definitely a note of unease in his usually confident tone.

Kono wrinkled her brow. "Only what?" She waited a moment, then said impatiently, "Chin, is something wrong?"

There was a heavy sigh over the line, and then Chin said, "I hate to even bring this up, but... it's just… have you heard from Steve or Danny?"

"What?" Kono squinted with surprise at the unexpected question. _Steve and Danny? Why would I have heard from them?_ "No, I haven't heard from them." She answered hesitantly, confusion sweeping over her. "Why?"

Chin sighed again, as if something had been confirmed, then asked, "Where are you? There's a storm coming."

"What?" Leaning forward, and throwing a quick glance upward, Kono peered at the sky in confusion. There was no sign of a storm - before her, the expanse of horizon was sunny, clear, and brazenly blue. Not a cloud in sight._ A storm?_ "I'm almost to HQ, and the sky is perfectly clear here." Kono shot another glance upwards. "There's a storm predicted tomorrow, but I don't see anything here... are you sure?" Shifting her grip on the phone she shook her head in puzzlement. _What in the world is he talking about?_

"I'm sure. You're looking the wrong direction. Just... look behind you. Towards the mountains."

Irritated at her cousin's exasperatingly vague answers, Kono rolled her eyes, and glanced sideways, bending over slightly to get a clear view of the sky. "What, Chin, I don't see..." Her words died abruptly on her lips, and faded away into nothingness as she caught a glimpse of the horizon behind her in the car's side mirror. _Oh my... _A lump rose in her throat as she beheld the massive collection of storm clouds that were forming over the mountains, blotting out half the horizon and reaching out towards the ocean with ominous black fingers. "What in the world…" she murmured, tearing her eyes away and focusing on the road again with an effort. "Chin, you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"I thought there was no storm predicted until tomorrow," Kono muttered, more talking to herself than to her cousin as she tried to ignore the tension that was building in her stomach, and taking a deep breath, she focused on keeping her car between the yellow lines on the road. She couldn't remember the last time a storm had come up that quickly; only a few hours before, the sky had been totally clear - sunny, blue, and wide open with no sign of any threatening weather of any kind.

She had made a point to check the weather before she'd gone surfing, but suddenly, she remembered the way the waves had pounded her in the water, and the electric feeling in the air when she'd finally dried off, and headed home. _Dangit, _she thought, tightening her grip on the phone, _I should've noticed._

Chin's voice was tense as he replied to her previous statement. "This storm came out of nowhere, cuz, and it's gonna be a big one. I don't like this at all."

"But, why…" Kono stopped abruptly, and horror swept over as she remembered her cousin's query when she'd first answered the phone. "Wait, you haven't heard from Steve and Danny?" _  
_

"No." Chin's answer was clipped.

Kono gritted her teeth, and took a deep breath before asking softly, "And they're not back yet?" She already knew the answer from the way Chin hesitated before answering.

"No." Clearing his throat, Chin sighed, and when he spoke again his voice was tight with poorly concealed worry. "If they're not already heading back by now, they're gonna get caught in this storm, Kono."

**TBC **

* * *

_A/N: TELL ME WHAT TO DOOO. I'm having some writers block problems. Suggestions, comments, anything? Thanks for reading, you guys. Y'all are awesome. I'll update as soon as I can. :)_

_A/N UPDATE: Yeah, it wasn't writers block, actually. I was just so dang exhausted... whoops. Writing is supposed to be fun, and it is NOT fun when you can barely keep your eyes open. So. No writers block. But still, suggestions are always helpful. ;) And as always, please review! I love hearing your thoughts. :D xx_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: This chapter is from Danny's POV during Steve's second awakening. I kind juggled with the idea of doing this, wondering if I should drag it out as much as I am, but hey, it's my story, I can do whatever I want. I do hope y'all like it, though. ;) __Now, on to the story!_

**I don't own H50, or anything associated with it. **

* * *

Danny never expected to find himself begging his sleeping partner to wake up and talk to him – the possibility never even entered his mind. Normally, it was the other way around – he was usually wishing his partner would just _shut _up, stop his intense, relentless pursuit of criminals, cases and normal-but-unlawful activities and get some sleep, for goshs' sake. There were times when he wondered if the man _ever _stopped moving. Even when he slept, the freakin' mountain man thrashed and kicked as if he was fighting an invisible foe.

If someone had told him he would – ever – be begging Steve to talk to him, rather than insisting the Ex-SEAL shut up, he would have called them crazy. If they would have told him that he would be kneeling next to his unconscious, bleeding partner on the side of a mountain minutes before the biggest storm Danny had ever seen was supposed to hit, he would have arrested them on the spot, and made sure they were securely placed in an insane asylum. Permanently.

But unexpected things always seemed to happen around Steve Mcgarrett, and there was no way Danny could deny the fact that he was, most definitely, begging. On the side of a gigantic Hawaiian mountain in the middle of nowhere with cracked, blood stained hands, and sore knees as he crouched next to the normally stronger-than-life man; Danny had never seen the man so helpless. Ever since he'd finished cleaning and bandaging the gunshot wound in Steve's shoulder, he'd been trying to rouse the unconscious man by any means necessary; begging, threatening, pleading, wishing, praying and most of all, hoping – against all reason and logic – that his tenacious, annoying kick-ass friend and partner would wake up, talk to him and lay out his well formed plan on how to get the heck off the mountain before the storm hit.

In spite of his persistent efforts, the Ex-SEAL had remained very-un-SEAL-like – quite stubbornly silent, and undeniably unconscious. Danny had been begging the stubborn idiot to wake up for five minutes. _Five freaking minutes. _He'd used every argument he could think of, just wanting to see his friend open his eyes, but, as usual, Steve seemed to be set on doing exactly what he wanted to. A moment before, in response to Danny's voice, Steve had stirred restlessly, but consciousness was apparently still out of his grasp, and currently, his partner was hovering between consciousness, and oblivion – and what was worse, he seemed to be perfectly content to stay there.

"Please, Steve, c'mon babe," His brow wrinkled in concerned concentration, Danny kept his blue eyes fixed firmly on his friend's face as he tried for the umpteenth time to break through the invincible mental fortress Mcgarrett had built around his mind. "Steven! Open your eyes." Yet again, there was no answer; the Ex-SEAL didn't even have the decency to acknowledge him. In fact, this time, there was no response at all - not a flicker of an eyelid, or the twitch of a finger. Not one sign of recognition. Even in unconsciousness, the man was showing just how darn _stubborn _he was.

Swallowing his impatience, Danny tried again, changing tactics as he switched instantly from commanding to pleading, "I need your help, alright and I don't know what to do unless you wake up. Come on. You can do it."

_You can do anything._

Silence was the only answer - a sound that had become so familiar, Danny was surprised he'd never noticed that emptiness had a resonating, tangible - but oh-so desolate - quality to it. Loud, and yet... hollow, barren, void of life. _Well, not quite void of life, _Danny thought wryly. _But still._ Steve was undeniably unconscious, and there had still been no response to Danny's pleas. Nothing. Danny gritted his teeth, and shot a quick glance at the rapidly darkening sky and swelling clouds, wondering absently if Steve even _wanted_ to wake up. Then, with a start, Danny realized he probably _didn't_. Why should he? The only thing awaiting him was pain.

Raising his hand, the motion so practiced it went unnoticed, Danny ran a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath, forcing himself to be calm. Sighing softly, he turned his eyes back to Steve, noting with growing concern the drops of sweat that stood out on his ashen forehead, and face. Dang, the man was pale. Too pale. His dark, sweat-stained eyelashes rested heavily on his pale cheek in deceivingly peaceful oblivion, but every breath came in soft, gasping pants that sounded unnaturally quick and harsh in the thickening air.

_What a mess, _Danny groaned, _What a complete, damn mess. _A heavy sigh escaped him, splitting the silent air with surprising clarity. _I shouldn't be surprised, though, _A tight smile touched his lips for an instant as he thought of his partner's unusually crazy antics, and organized yet chaotic order of business. Whenever Steve Mcgarrett was involved, the simplest jobs, activities and moments seemed to become almost instantaneously fraught with confusion and spontaneity. And without fail, they always, _always_, turned into something dangerous. It seemed to be the way the man worked - and even in completely ordinary situations, fate seemed determined to bring trouble to him. Danny grunted humorlessly. Their current predicament proved that theory.

In the matter of a few seconds, Danny processed the options available to them. And there weren't many. In fact, there were only two.

When Steve woke up, they would move to a secure, safe location to wait out the storm. At least, as safe a place as could be found on a tree-infested, wet, slippery mountain. And if Steve wouldn't wake up... Danny would carry him. Their position was extremely precarious, and staying where they were was out of the question – especially with that darn storm coming – and Danny had no intention of being out in the open on the side of a mountain with lightning striking all around, while they both got drenched.

Eyeing his friend's tall, lanky form uncertainly, Danny frowned grimly at the thought of trying to lug the man up the steep bank. It would definitely not be an easy task – if it even came to that – and although he was certain he could do it, he would much rather prefer not to. His knee had been sore when he'd regained consciousness, but now it was stiff, and swollen, defying all but the smallest attempts to move it, and the aching, throbbing beat in his head told him any extreme exertion would bring back the pounding headache that had finally eased – at least, enough to bring the pain down to a more bearable level.

_You can ignore pain, Danny, _he told himself firmly. Steve had done it for every member of his team many times before, and for once, Danny could return the favor. Whatever had to be done to get his partner to safety – and hopefully, off this goshdang mountain as soon as possible – he would do, and that included carrying the freakin' 185 pound SuperSEAL up the side of a cliff all by himself. There had to be some place around where they could get out of the weather. Danny frowned slightly at the absurdity of the situation. Of course, finding that location would be a lot easier if Steve could just tell him where the closest cave was, but to do so, of course, he had to be awake…

With renewed determination, Danny leaned forward and resumed speaking, keeping his tone soft, but unyieldingly firm. The Navy man actually seemed to listen – sometimes, that was – when Danny barked orders like a freakin' Navy Commander. Maybe it would work now.

"C'mon, Steve," Danny picked up where he'd left off a moment before, "wake up and open those baby blues for me." He didn't expect a response of any kind, let alone the immediate reaction that followed; surprise and relief swept over him suddenly, only to vanish the next moment as Steve stirred slightly, and gasped, his already too-shallow breaths hitching in his chest painfully as his breathing quickened. The Ex-SEAL was fighting against the surrounding blackness with every ounce of determination left in his body. His ragged breathing took on a terrifying gasping quality as his chest rose and fell frantically, body straining with all it's little strength against the panic that was swallowing him, desperate for oxygen to sate his deprived lungs.

Concerned by his friend's reaction, Danny forcefully choked down his panic and leaned forward, his tone tense and tinged with desperation as he spoke quickly - frantically - in an attempt to calm Steve's agitated restlessness, "Hey, hey, calm down," Danny gripped Steve's good shoulder with one hand, while with the other, he clasped the man's limp, cool fingers in his own with white knuckled force, squeezing so hard he was sure he would break Steve's hand. "It's okay. Breathe."

At that moment, Danny would have done anything to see those familiar, stubborn electrically blue eyes open; he would have done anything to ease Steve's agony – he would have eaten pineapple on a pizza for a month, or done a years worth of paperwork by himself without complaining; heck, two years worth. _Please, Steve, _he begged, silently, over and over, still gripping his friend's limp fingers. _Please, babe. Don't give up now. Fight._

It took a moment, but Danny's voice, and the familiar touch seemed to calm the wounded man, and although his eyes were still closed, Steve's breathing became noticeably slower, and more relaxed, until it was only slightly more rapid than normal, although still too shallow. "That's it, you're okay, Steve, you're fine." Exhaling in relief as Steve's hummingbird pulse grew even and steady again, Danny breathed, "Good, that's it."

_But please, Steve, really. Open your eyes._

He threw a swift glance upwards at the sky, gazing uneasily at the wild expanse of rolling, tossing clouds that covered the entire sky like a blanket; they were so dark they had taken on the appearance of a black shade that had dropped over the sun. The soft breaths of air had risen into a stiff, unyielding breeze, and goose bumps formed on Danny's bare arms as he turned back to his friend, desperation overwhelming every other emotion.

_Dangit, Steven. Wake up. _Danny squeezed the limp hand he was still holding, and spoke firmly, "Now, come on, Steven. Open your eyes, you big dope."

In spite of his previous resolution to show no fear, Danny heard it in his voice as it quavered slightly, rising and falling. Steve heard it too, he was sure, and his heart clenched inside his chest at the obvious super-human effort his partner was making to wake up – more than likely in response to the sound of Danny's worried tone.

_Almost there, babe._

Uttering a muffled groan, Steve's lips pulled downward in a slight frown – an expression so familiar, Danny had to choke back a half-sobbing laugh at the blatant reluctance and stubbornness displayed on the man's face, even though he was only half conscious. Eyelashes fluttering weakly, Steve grunted, and Danny leaned forward with bated breath, only to be disappointed the next moment as the Ex-SEAL grew still again, his breathing once more smoothing out into undisturbed, shallow respirations.

"Steven, please," Danny muttered thickly, and leaning forward again, he tightened his grip on the hand he was still holding, and spoke firmly but pleadingly, putting all his remaining desperation, stubbornness, and energy into the words, "Talk to me."

_Talk to me._

For one, horrible moment, there was no sign that Steve had heard; for one, dreadful, despairing moment, Danny was sure the SEAL had once again slipped into the darkness he had been fighting for so long, but suddenly, Danny sensed an almost tangible burst of energy flow through Steve's trembling body, and Mcgarrett's eyelashes fluttered weakly. With a soft groan, Steve's blue eyes slowly opened, revealing agony and raw exhaustion in their usually unreadable depths.

"Steve?" Taking in the lines of pain around his friend's unfocused eyes, Danny asked tentatively, "Babe, you with me?" As the SEAL blinked, struggling valiantly to bring the blond man's face into focus, Danny's felt Steve's hand tighten around his with a grip of surprising strength. From Mcgarrett's gritted teeth, and harsh, rapid breathing, Danny knew he was in pain, and a lot of it. "Steven," he repeated, as he leaned forward, keeping his voice low and soothing, "Are you with me?"

The harsh _inhale, exhale _of his gasping breaths splitting the air in shallow, halting bursts, Steve ran his tongue over his lips dryly, and whispered faintly, "Y-yeah," he blinked rapidly, trying to force his blurred eyes to focus, repeating hoarsely, "Y-yeah, D-D'nno, I-I'm here."

* * *

"Talk to me," Chin barked, shouldering his way through the double, glass doors as he stalked into the main room of HQ, a worried frown on his face, "Kono, what do you have?"

"Chin, hey," Kono looked up from where she was bending over the smart table, and frowned slightly as she acknowledged her cousin with a nod, and said, "You're not gonna believe this," Directing her frowning gaze downward again, her fingers danced over the smart table screen with desperate but graceful haste as she opened every program, one at a time, only to close each one again with evident impatience, "But I have absolutely nothing, Chin." She exhaled sharply in exasperation. "Not one thing."

"What?" Covering the remaining distance between them with two, brisk strides, Chin stopped beside his cousin before the smart table, and peered over her shoulder at the screen, his already worried frown darkening noticeably. "What do you mean?"

With a frustrated grunt, Kono closed out of the open program, and pushed herself upright. "Just what I said. Nothing's working. Nothing! I can't get anything to come up." Sighing, she ran her long fingers through her hair wearily. "Everything's down, Chin. Must be the storm coming in." She gestured, frustrated, towards the empty screen before her, and raised his eyes to her cousin's tight features. "What are we gonna do? Even the GPS tracker is down. There's no way we can track Danny's phone up there."

"Well, that certainly complicates things," Chin muttered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he tried to analyze his cousin's nervous explanation. Leave it to Steve Mcgarrett to get into a mess like this on his day off. The man just couldn't seem to stay out of trouble, no matter where he went, even when the circumstances were in no way his fault. Raising his head, he asked, "Did you look around here for any sign of where they went? A note, or anything that Steve would've written something on..." Chin gestured haphazardly around the room, and nodded towards Steve's office. "He could've left some sort of evidence. Anything."

"Yeah," Kono nodded abruptly, "I looked in here, on Steve's computer, in his desk, everywhere." She raised her frightened eyes to Chin's grim face. "Chin, are you sure they're not already on their way back?" She knew the answer - it was obvious Danny would've called to let the rest of the team know they were headed back, once they realized there was a storm coming - but she had to ask.

"Why wouldn't he have called, Kono?" Chin replied, confirming her conclusion with a slight shake of his head. "No, one of them would have called to let us know they were headed towards safety. Steve knows how bad these storms can get, and he also knows that we would be worrying if we didn't hear from them."

"Maybe they forgot," Kono offered, and then immediately rejected the idea. Communication was one of the things the Five-0 team excelled at, and one of the men would've have contacted either Chin or Kono as soon as they were able to. If they were able to.

The same thought was running through Chin's mind, and he shook his head again, planting his hands on the edge of the table in frustration. "No, they didn't forget." He straightened, and pounded his clenched fist against his knee. "Something happened, Kono, I can feel it. They're in trouble."

"I know. They would've called." Kono nodded in agreement. "But what can we do?"

Chin raised an eyebrow, and sighed, "Not much, at this point. The storm won't allow us to send a chopper up to look for them, we can't trace their phones, and we don't even know what mountain Steve was planning on hiking on. His favorite spot is the Ko'olau Mountain range, but what if he went somewhere else? We'd just waste time looking for them."

The room grew silent for a moment, both Kono and Chin lost in thought - it was unnaturally silent without the usual banter of the missing teammates that seemed to fill every dull moment in between cases - and there weren't many.

Finally, Chin raised his head, and spoke with renewed determination, "I don't know exactly what we can do, but have have to do something. Kono, you stay here, and keep trying to get the GPS to work. If you get it up, call me. I'm heading to Mcgarrett's to see if he left any clues around there that'll tell us where they were going." He shrugged, keeping his voice steady in spite of the knot of unease growing in his stomach. "Or maybe they're already at Steve's house. We are here early, after all." With a nod of silent agreement, Kono turned back to the table, and resumed working, biting her lip in concentration. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, Chin hurriedly exited the way he had entered. A moment later, he backed out of the parking spot, and headed towards Steve's house, driving as fast as he dared.

As he drove, he glanced periodically at the blackening sky with rising worry. Chances were, he would see Steve's familiar blue Silverado, and Danny's beloved Camaro in the driveway when he arrived, but something told him they wouldn't be there. And if Mcgarrett and Williams weren't there already, it was more than likely that the two men would get caught in the storm.

That in itself wasn't a problem: Steve and Danny would simply wait it out alongside the road, or in a convenient store along the highway; the storm was supposed to be fierce, but short lived. However, any Hawaiian storm was dangerous, and if no one heard anything from them in the next two hours, Chin and Kono would look until they found them. The only problem was, they had no idea where to start.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: Thank you all - again - so so much for the incredible support, and the reviews! I'm blown away by you guys. Special thanks to fanfic users __**Layanna**__, and __**Phoebe Miller**__ for their tremendously awesome suggestions, support, and fun PM conversations we've been exchanging. Also, to the guest user, and __**Texas50Fan**__: one of you wants Catherine, the other doesn't... haha. I'm not sure if I'll include her in the story, mainly because I love the main four characters best, and I've never gotten to "know" her all that well. And just to set something straight, anonymous "Guest" user, your suggestions and opinions are not stupid. Ever. I treasure any and all suggestions, and requests, and although I'm not sure if I'll include Cath in this story, I will definitely keep your request in mind. :) _

_And now we're caught up. No more "unconsciousness"; our boys need to stay together. At least, for now. ;) I intended to do a bit more with Steve and Danny in this chapter (I mean, gosh, they've been in the same spot for... 4 chapters? haha.), but I'm having fun with the story, draaaaaagging it out. *smiles nervously* Is it taking too long? I personally like stories that have a lot (A LOT) of depth, and plus, you can never have too much Steve whump. Next chapter is already half done, so I'll be posting it soon. :D Thanks for the support, guys, and all the reviews! Keep 'em coming! ;) xx_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Next chapter for y'all. :) Ready for some serious whump? {Oops.} **Previous disclaimers apply. **_

* * *

_Previously:_

_"Steve?" Taking in the lines of pain around his friend's unfocused eyes, Danny asked tentatively, "Babe, you with me?" As the SEAL blinked, struggling valiantly to bring the blond man's face into focus, Danny's felt Steve's hand tighten around his with a grip of surprising strength. From Mcgarrett's gritted teeth, and harsh, rapid breathing, Danny knew he was in pain, and a lot of it. "Steven," he repeated, as he leaned forward, keeping his voice low and soothing, "Are you with me?"_

_The harsh inhale, exhale of his gasping breaths splitting the air in shallow, halting bursts, Steve ran his tongue over his lips dryly, and whispered faintly, "Y-yeah," he blinked rapidly, trying to force his blurred eyes to focus, repeating hoarsely, "Y-yeah, D-D'nno, I-I'm here."_

* * *

A half-sob escaped Danny lips, and he realized that he had been holding his breath. The sound of Steve's voice - although it was weaker, and more tremulous than usual - sent a palpable sense of relief crashing over him in a tidal wave. It took a moment before he could speak through the lump in his throat, and even then, his voice trembled more than he would have liked.

"Okay, okay, that's good, you stay with me, okay?" At the moment, Danny had never been happier that his partner was so goshdang stubborn; it was like the man just couldn't be killed - his stubborn tenacity and determination drove the SEAL beyond what Danny had thought was humanly possible. It was probably the only thing keeping him alive. "Steve," Danny squeezed the hand he was still holding, and ordered softly, "Steven, you hear me, stay with me, babe."

"...D'nny..." Steve was dimly surprised at the weakness of his own voice when he spoke; it cracked, and rasped from disuse like a rusty car engine, but he barely noticed, and besides, he honestly didn't care. His eyelids were as heavy as concrete, and the simple task of bringing the fuzzy form of his blond partner into focus was almost beyond his reach. "...D'nny, y-you..."

"Yeah, it's me," Danny leaned forward anxiously, and gently touched the man's arm, his eyes flicking over Steve's face with rapt attention, "I'm here, Steve. What is it, babe?"_And I swear, if you ask me if I'm okay... _Danny thought wryly, more than half expecting those words to follow the thought.

Steve fought to keep his unexplainably fuzzy brain from giving in to the beckoning darkness he had just fought his way through. The face before him drifted in and out of focus, a collection of blurred lines and merging colors; he was tired - all he wanted to do was curl up, and let himself drift off. Ignore the pain, and give in to the cloud of sleep that was always on the edge of his consciousness, but he couldn't. Danny's tone was unmistakably worried, and he squinted questioningly through the gray haze that clouded his vision, asking, "Y-you okay?"

"Oh my god, Steve," Danny blew out an exasperated breath, but his voice cracked slightly as he spoke. _What did I just say, Steven? _The man had a freakin' hole in his shoulder, had just regained consciousness, and the first words out of his mouth were 'are you okay'? _Typical Steve Mcgarrett, _Danny thought, swallowing the lump in his throat. _Typical selfless, freakin' SuperSEAL goshdang idiot. _Sighing, he ran a trembling hand over his eyes, and raised his eyes to Steve's bleary but determined gaze.

"Yeah, babe, _I'm_ fine," Danny emphasized the word slightly, hoping to make the words as believable as possible, "Just, don't worry about me, okay, Steven, please. For once, just worry about yourself, hmm? I'm fine."

'Fine'? Danny was beginning to wonder if he knew the definition of the word. According to his ninja-parter, 'fine' was apparently "in agonizing pain but hiding it efficiently". Danny grunted humorlessly at the thought. _I have definitely been spending too much time around Steve._

Truth be told, Danny was anything but 'fine'.

He was worried, in pain, fighting panic and trying to keep a soothing, confident mask over it all the entire time, but his head was throbbing in time to the nervous beating of his heart, and the ever-present headache that pounded behind his eyes refused to go away. But physically, he was a hundred times better than the freakin' Navy SEAL before him. _  
_

In response to Danny's assertion, Steve ran his unfocused gaze over his partner's face, and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the unusual but unmistakable fear in his friend's voice. "You sure, D'nno?" he rasped, struggling, without success, to calm the exasperating trembling in his tone.

Danny sighed softly. In spite of his best efforts to appear calm, the freaking SuperSEAL saw right through his facade. As usual. When working a case, Steve's more-than-human ability to put two-and-two together was more than a little helpful, but at the present moment, that man was too observant for his own good.

Forcing a tight smile, Danny replied, "I"m sure. I'm fine, babe." He felt like he was re-living the previous 15 minutes over again. Steve regaining consciousness, fighting to hide the pain and exhaustion, his tenacious concern for Danny himself... the only difference this time was Steve looked ten times worse than he had a few moments before. His shoulder was bandaged now, and that was good, but Mcgarrett was shaking and so pale his skin was almost translucent. _Dangit, Steve..._

"You don't look fine," Steve persisted, his tone exceedingly stubborn in spite of the undeniable weakness that pervaded his raspy voice, "Y-You look lik-"

Choking back a strangled laugh, Danny held up a finger, and shook his head. "Just... do _not_ even say it. You already said that once today, and besides, if anyone looks like hell, it's you, Steven, so please, don't even go there." Danny took a deep breath, and raised his eyes to the darkening sky in a futile attempt to calm himself. _Bad idea, _he grunted, observing the rapidly moving clouds that were increasing in size, and growing darker every minute.

Shaking his head, he refocused on the pale, taut face before him, struggling to keep the rising worry out of his tone. "Steve, I thought you were—I thought you were..." Danny bit his lip, swallowing back the bile that rose in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to utter the unimaginable words, and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as if blocking out the reality before him would change it.

_So much 'showing no worry'._

True, the oncoming storm unsettled and alarmed him - especially since they were no closer to getting shelter than they had been when they'd first recognized the signs of bad weather. _Was that only a half hour ago? _Danny couldn't believe that their friendly bantering conversation had been abruptly cut off a mere 30 minutes ago. It seemed like the sudden decision to turn around and head back down the mountain had taken place in a different life time, instead of that vey day. _How quickly things change._

"D'nny?" Jumping at the sound of Steve's raspy voice, Danny tore his eyes open and saw that - once again - Steve was watching him carefully, his blue eyes questioning but undeniably weary as he waited for Danny to finish his abruptly halted sentence.

_That's the second time you've done that, _Danny gritted his teeth in frustration. He was trying as hard as he could to hide his fear, and worry, but stopping in the middle of his sentence and squeezing his eyes shut was not a good way to depict confidence, and certainty. In fact, it was the worst thing he could do. _Keep it together, Danny. Be calm._

Danny sighed, and tightened his grip on Steve's cool fingers. "Just... please don't do that again, Steven. Not ever."

"Do w-what, D'nno?"

"Almost die on me," Finally gaining control over his quavering voice, Danny spoke firmly, "Never again, Steven, okay? I forbid it. And from now on, you have to stay awake. No more sleeping. Y'hear me?" Danny watched with thinly concealed worry as Steve's lips curled upwards slightly at the familiar bossy tone.

Steve couldn't remember the last time blinking took such an effort. His partner's face swam before him, but Danny's tone wasn't one he could ignore - too many years spent obeying orders and commands in the Navy - and finally, the last lingering remnants of gray disappeared from his vision, leaving his eyesight clear with pain-fueled clarity, "Y-yeah," He steadied his voice with an effort, and licked his lips, saying softly, "Yeah, I-I hear you."

Danny's face was etched with tension and fear, but at Steve's words, unmistakable relief overshadowed the worry displayed there. At least for a brief, fleeting moment. Danny blew out a heavy breath, nodded shakily, and settled back on his heels, letting his shoulders slumped forward wearily as he breathed out, "Good. That's good, Steven." A slight smile quivered about his lips, "At least we understand each other. Because, I swear to you, Steven, if you die up here, I'm gonna have to haul your sorry butt down the mountain, and then, once you're revived, I'll kill you."

"You're not making... any sense, Danno," Steve smirked weakly at the expected eye-roll Danny directed at him. "I guess that's pretty normal, though. You're not known for m-making... much sense anyway."

"Oh, you guess that's normal - well, let me tell you something that is _not_ normal, Steven," Danny waved a hand through the air dramatically, "It is most definitely _not_ normal for someone with a goshdang hole in their shoulder to be quipping jokes seconds after regaining consciousness. _That_," Danny poked his index finger in Steve's direction, "is not even close to normal, even for freakin' Super-SEAL-Army-men." _  
_

Steve rolled his eyes, and gave a slight shake of his head, ignoring the pleased expression that spread over the blond man's face. Even someone as confusing as Danny couldn't mix up the Army and the Navy as many times as he had in one day, unless it was done on purpose. "Navy, Danny," he corrected, grunting humorlessly at the amused but faint smile that spread over Danny's worried face, "Really, I thought you had better short term memory."

_Can't ever let it pass, can you Steven? _Glaring at Steve's faint smile in mock anger, Danny gently tapped the side of his aching head with his index finger, and growled, "Yeah, well, you know, head wounds are tricky things," He slashed his hand through the air sharply to emphasize his point, smirking slightly as the corner of Steve's mouth curled upward into his unique half-smile at the blond man's wild hand gestures, "If I forget small, unimportant details such as the difference between a soldier and a sailor, it cannot be held against me, Steven, especially considering our current circumstances. Besides, I keep mixing them up, and you keep correcting me, so why does it matter anyway?"

Danny's tight, amused smile cracked and shattered disappearing instantly as Steve's answering chuckle was cut short by a raspy cough that shook his entire frame with violent tremors; the amused expression that had spread over Steve's pale face was instantly replaced by a mask of raw pain, and panic. "D'nny," Steve gasped desperately, his heart-rate skyrocketing as the needed oxygen eluded his deprived lungs, "I-I..."

"Hey, hey, whoa, whoa, Steve," Danny's voice rose sharply in panic, "Steven, it's okay, take it easy babe. You're okay." Gripping Steve's tense shoulders with a gentle but firm grasp to keep the man upright, Danny watched helplessly as Steve slumped forward, gasping for breath and struggling desperately to escape the wave of pain that washed over him at the convulsive but involuntary movement.

"Steve, take it easy, deep breaths now, c'mon, you're okay," A sudden gust of wind nearly drowned out the rasp of Steve's breathing as he coughed again, his hands curling into fists of rigid agony. "Steve, take it easy, babe, it's okay," Danny could barely force out the words through the lump in his throat. "It's okay."

_It's okay._

The words mocked him, repeating over and over in his head, but Danny couldn't tear his eyes away from the trembling form before him. He watched the ragged rise and fall of Steve's chest with helpless bitterness as, a moment later, the Ex-SEAL slumped backwards, shaking and utterly spent.

"That's it, take it easy, babe," Clenching his jaw tightly, Danny spoke reassuringly as he eased Steve back against the tree; the man's dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, and the shadows under his eyes were in stark contrast to his chalky white face. "You're okay. It's okay, deep breaths." He kept his tone reassuring, and soothing, but his words sounded empty, even to him.

"...D'nny..." Steve gasped, his eyes once again unfocused and glassy as he tried to focus on the worried face before him. Even the simple action took too much effort, and giving up with a strangled sigh, he let his eyes drift shut wearily, his head falling back against the base of the tree limply.

"Hey, hey, Steve?" Alarmed, Danny gripped Steve's wrist with trembling fingers, keeping his other hand on the man's shoulder as he murmured senseless words softly into the moist air. Finally, the sporadic, faint pulse thrumming under his fingertips evened out to a rapid but more steady beat, and the harsh gasps of air coming from between Steve's clenched teeth softened to a soft, breathless pant.

Danny was no medical doctor, but the coughing couldn't be a good sign - and he was sure the cause of it was more than an inhaled bug. The energy the coughing fit had consumed, along with the resulting pain, seemed to have sapped what little strength Steve previous had. If they didn't get off that mountain before long... Danny shuddered, and refused to dwell on the thought. Steve's dark eyelashes brushed his pale cheeks softly, and Danny felt the shudders running through the man's body as he took deep, heaving breaths, trying to gain control over the fire that was roaring through his body.

"Steve..." Danny murmured, his throat tightening painfully at the sight of Mcgarrett's ashen, pain-tightened lips and trembling form, "Steve, babe, are you..."

"I-I'm... fine," The words were rasped out with difficulty, and the statement held no conviction. "I-I'm okay, Danny, really." Steve raised his head, and focused on his friend's face with an effort that seemed almost beyond human strength, Danny saw the agony reflected in the Ex-SEAL's eyes, along with a deep abiding weariness that went deeper than physical exhaustion - in fact, the expression bordered on despair.

Danny ignored his observation resolutely - at least, that is what he thought he had seen in the man's eyes. _Steve doesn't give up, _he thought, exhaling shakily, and let his hands fall limply to his side. "Steve, just, please don't..."

"D-Danny, I'm fine, alright," Steve's voice still trembled, but Danny recognized the steel in his tone - a tone he had heard many times before.

Something about the statement angered Danny; the man was definitely better than he had been a moment before, but he was far from 'fine'. That blasted word... if Danny ever heard it again, he was sure he would lose it. "Steven, you are most definitely _not _fine, okay," Danny snapped, sitting back on his heels, and rubbing trembling fingers over his aching temples, "Nothing about this situation is _fine_. You've been shot, Steven, _shot! _There's a storm coming, and God knows how we're gonna get off this mountain, because..."

As Danny ranted on, waving his hands through the air with increasing speed, Steve knew their precious time was fading quickly; the storm was almost upon them, and they didn't have anymore time. He didn't have anymore time. He could feel himself weakening with every passing moment, and the realization gave him enough energy to speak.

"Hey," Steve interrupted suddenly, his gaze suddenly alert and touched with urgency as he rasped, "D-Danny, as much as I would love to... continue this discussion, we'll h-have to postpone it, okay," He ignored the look of dull surprise that spread suddenly over Danny's face, and taking a deep breath, continued, "T-There's a cave, okay, not far from... here. If we can get there, we'll be safe until the storm blows out."

"A cave?" Danny blinked uncomprehendingly, still caught up in his rant from the moment before.

"Yes, Danny, a cave," Steve's voice would have sounded annoyed if it wasn't so weak, "A cave. We need to move, now."

It took all Danny's willpower to focus on the truth - and common sense - of his partner's words, and not the amount of pain on Steve's usually inscrutably stoic face. "A cave," Danny repeated slowly, raising his eyebrows. "Oh." He knew they needed to get to shelter - in fact, his mind had been screaming at him ever since Steve had regained consciousness, but he had been reluctant to broach the subject of moving. From the coughing fit a moment before, it was apparent that motion of any kind was unbearable for Steve, but finding shelter was vital - and even though a _cave _was the last place Danny wanted to wait out a storm, it was definitely better than being exposed to the elements.

Hawaiian storms were very much unlike the gentle rains of Jersey and judging from the current electricity in the damp air, Danny knew this was storm was going to be unlike any he'd ever seen. A cave was sounding better and better all the time. "Okay then, a cave, that's good," Danny cleared his throat thickly, frowning in concentration, "Where is it at?"

"Up there, a hundred yards or so off the path," Steve nodded in the direction of the trail, and Danny turned his eyes in the implied direction to the abandoned path with a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was a mere 50 feet behind them, up the steep, slippery, rocky bank. It wasn't a long way - in fact, it was so, _so _close - but getting there... the task was daunting, if not impossible. _And you thought you would be able carry him... _Danny grunted to himself, remembering his earlier thoughts of bravado when Steve had been unconscious. _Now the thought of walking up there _myself_ is exhausting._

Keeping all this hidden from Steve's pain-sharpened eyes, Danny turned back to the intense gaze of his partner who was watching him with an expression of agonized weariness, and grim determination... and something else. An emotion Danny had seen once before in the blue depths of Steve's eyes; the exact same expression. He just couldn't remember the time and place, and at the moment, he didn't really have time to connect the dots. "What?" Danny asked softly, wrinkling his brow in confusion, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Just..." With a small shake of his head, Steve licked his lips, and averted his eyes, "...nothing." Concentrating on anything but the pain, and the warnings of exhaustion his body was sending him was difficult; so difficult, he wondered if he would be able to get to the cave, even with Danny helping him. The same feeling of weakness from earlier pervaded his entire body, and even the simple task of keeping his eyes open was almost more than he could do. _  
_

Frowning worriedly, Danny shook his head at the dismissive statement, but didn't pursue the subject. They didn't have time. Aware that Steve's calculating gaze was once more fixed on his face, Danny pushed himself painfully to his feet, and staggered momentarily as white spots danced before his eyes. He placed his hand on the trunk of the tree for a moment to steady himself. _Been sitting down too long, _Danny groaned, his face wrinkling unconsciously at the increasing throbbing behind his eyes.

Keeping a hand against the tree Steve was leaning against to steady himself, Danny bent stiffly, grabbed the backpacks that were lying nearby, and threw them carelessly over his shoulder. He bit back a groan at the sudden white-hot flash of pain that shot through his head at the movement, but forced himself to ignore the discomfort for the moment. It wasn't that hard to do - his rising fear was overwhelming every other emotion.

Returning his gaze to the wounded man, Danny was alarmed to see Mcgarrett's eyes had slid shut again. "Steve?" His knee and aching head protested sharply as he leaned over, and placed placed a gentle hand on his partner's shoulder. "Steve, babe, you with me?"

Opening his eyes slowly, Steve turned his head towards the familiar voice, focusing on Danny's face with a weary but startlingly clear gaze. "Yeah. You ready, Danno?"

Danny was more than a little surprised at the sudden calm, controlled tone in which Steve answered, but he kept his face blank and replied, "Am I ready to get out of here, and get to shelter so we won't be absolutely drenched by the rain?" He forced his lips into a tight smile, "You bet I'm ready, Steven."

_Are you?_ The last thing he wanted to do was drag the pale, trembling man to his feet; he knew the movement would be agony for his friend, and what was even worse was that Steve himself knew it, and was determined to proceed anyway. _Goshdang-SuperSEAL-freakin'-ninja-Mcgarrett.__  
_

"Okay," Steve grunted through clenched teeth at the answering stab of pain as he shifted his body slightly, and braced his left hand against the ground. "C'mon, Danny, help me up," he growled, gritting his teeth in impatience as his partner hesitated uncertainly.

For one moment longer, Danny hesitated, his eyes meeting those of his partner's briefly. The shadows under Steve's eyes were nothing compared to the shadows of pain within, but there was an underlying expression of weary resolve that drove away Danny's fear-induced reluctance with the iron-fist of determination. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, and Danny nodded resolutely. "Okay, let's do it," They both knew if they didn't go now, it would be too late.

They could do it They _had _to do it.

"Here goes, babe," Danny murmured softly, and planting his feet firmly, he readjusted his sweaty grip on Steve's tense arm, and gave a gentle tug upwards, struggling to maintain his balance on the steep hillside at the abrupt dead-weight in his arms.

Steve gasped at the abrupt, overwhelming pain that ripped through his body at the movement, and for a moment, his vision flickered and threatened to fade to black. Through the sounds of his own harsh, ragged breaths, he heard Danny speaking encouragingly, but he couldn't discern the words through the rushing in his ears. His body rebelled against the movement - against the pain - but with a sudden burst of determination, he managed to get his legs underneath him as Danny persistently but gently pulled him upright into a standing position.

"That's it, good job. You did it, babe," Speaking non-stop, Danny kept a firm grip on the man's arm as Steve wavered weakly, the sharp rasp of his rapid, shallow gasps almost drowned out by the rising wind. "That's it, you're up."

Still grasping Steve's arm, Danny maneuvered himself sideways until he was able to shrug underneath Steve's heavy arm. Danny felt the tenseness throughout the Ex-SEAL's entire body and heard the sharp _inhale, exhale _of his friend's gasping breaths as he wrapped his arm around the man's waist, and gripped Mcgarrett's wrist to keep the suddenly limp arm over his shoulder.

"D'nny," Steve gasped, barely able to force out the words as he struggled to raise his head from where it had fallen against his chest, "W-W need to go."

Biting his lip, Danny swallowed the bile in his throat. The man had barely made a sound when Danny had pulled him to his feet, but the agony was clearly evident in his tone now. The freakin' Navy SEAL was extremely efficient at hiding his discomfort, and the fact that he was unable to conceal it now only unnerved Danny all the more.

"Alright, babe." Danny murmured, glancing sideways at his friend's taut, sweat-streaked face. "You ready?" Steve's answering nod a moment later was nearly imperceptible, but it was the only sign Danny needed.

_You can do this._

Already panting from the exertion and the considerable weight on his shoulders, Danny took a step forward, struggling to maintain his balance as he leaned forward to keep from tumbling down the steep slope backwards. Only 50 feet to the trail. Only 50 feet. Easy, right?

_Hang on, babe,_ Danny pled silently._ Just hang on._

**TBC **

* * *

_A/N: *clears throat* Is that whumpy enough for you? :P ;)_

_Aaaand, our boys are up and moving (FINALLY), heading towards a cave where they can wait out the storm. Next chapter, back to Chin and Kono to get this rescue underway. ;) Thanks for reading y'all - and once again, thank you so so so much for your incredible support. I love hearing from you guys, so keep the reviews coming._


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Alright, I had planned to get this up a few days ago, but RL interfered. (It does that sometimes, ya know). Trying to move this process along a little... I'm getting a bit impatient myself. ;) Should have the next chapter up soon. {It's not written yet, but I'll be working on it.}_

_Thanks for sticking around guys, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter. (Previous disclaimers still apply.) xx_

* * *

Chin Ho Kelly appreciated many things about Steve Mcgarrett. In spite of the Ex-SEAL's exasperating tendency to dive into dangerous situations head first and without a second thought, he was organized, efficient and professional. Most of the time. Work seemed to be the only place Steve did anything spur-of-the-moment, and unplanned. But since Mcgarrett's entire life was pretty much spent working, that wasn't saying much. However, the thing Chin had come to appreciate most about his boss - besides the SEAL's fierce loyalty and unwavering friendship - was the man's orderliness, and careful systemization. Time spent in the Navy was not wasted, and old habits die hard.

At the moment, however, Chin was wishing the man was just a little _less_ organized.

Everything in Steve's house was exactly where it should be. That was, everything except Steve and Danny. The driveway had been blatantly empty when Chin had arrived 5 minutes before - there was no sign of Steve or Danny anywhere. After entering the house with the spare key Steve had hidden out front, the native Hawaiian had been searching the most likely places for any documentation of Steve's 'plan' for the day, but so far, his search had been fruitless.

Swallowing a sigh of frustration, Chin took in every angle of Steve's spotless living room, with a slow, sweeping gaze. Nothing was out of place. Every pillow was in it's usual position, even the remote controls to the TV were aligned squarely on the arm of the couch. Everything organized, categorized, perfectly ordered. Just how Steve liked it.

Chin flipped out his phone distractedly, and glanced at the screen for the 2nd time since his arrival.

Nothing.

_It figures._

With a heavy sigh, he tucked the exasperatingly silent device back in his pocket, and moved hurriedly into the next room - the kitchen - to continue his search.

For the umpteenth time since he'd first heard about the storm, he cursed himself for not finding out the specific location of Steve and Danny's hike. Steve was an experienced hiker, and skilled outdoorsman, but unexpected things happened in the jungle. And the fierce storms that arose at a moments notice could catch anyone off guard; even someone who had been born and raised in Hawaii.

All of this trouble would have been averted if he would have just thought to ask Mcgarrett where, exactly, he was planning on going.

Worry was a sensation Chin had become accustomed to. Working everyday in potentially deadly situations hardly encouraged calm, relaxing thoughts. Especially when your teammates were more than teammates, but friends and family members as well. Danny would have called, Chin knew, to allay the rest of the teams' fears. Although SuperSEAL Mcgarrett didn't seem to understand the concept of explaining any of his actions, Danny, at least, could relate with Chin's unease when a member of the team was missing. Or in this case, _two _members.

Blowing out an impatient breath, Chin scanned the room quickly, searching for anything that appeared to be out of place, but nothing stood out. One thought ran through his mind with wearying repetition. _They should've called._ And to make matters worse, Steve's spotless house seemed reluctant to give up any clues to it's owner's whereabouts.

"Come on, there's gotta be something," Chin muttered under his breath, standing in the middle of the kitchen, and turning slowly as he surveyed the room impatiently, "Anything." A piece of paper with a hurried line scrawled on it, or a note on Steve's calendar. Just something that would give him a hint of any kind; something that would tell him where to start searching.

If it even came to that.

They had no proof that anything had even gone amiss with Mcgarrett's and Williams' hiking trip. The two men were probably on their way back at that exact moment. Maybe Danny's phone had died, or he'd turned it off. Or maybe they had lost service from the incoming storm, and had been unable to call. They might even be moments from HQ.

Maybe.

One last quick glance over the empty counters once again confirmed what he'd suspected from the beginning - there was, in fact, nothing to find. At least not downstairs. With a dismissive shrug, Chin exited the kitchen, and headed up the stairs that led to Steve's bedroom, taking them two at a time in his haste. The sound of his footsteps echoed eerily through the empty house, and for a moment, he felt slightly foolish for searching Steve's house to begin with. The impulsive action was so unusual for him; it was something Steve _himself_ would do.

Chin was known for his deliberate, calculated, level-headed actions, but he couldn't ignore the feeling of unease that gripped him. Something was wrong. He didn't know what, but he felt it. Call it intuition, call it instinct. He just _knew._

He had just finished his hurried but careful inspection the landing at the top of the stairs and was moving into Mcgarrett's orderly bedroom, when his cell-phone vibrated against his leg, startling him. Hastily digging the device out of his pocket, he glanced eagerly at the screen, and hit the green button, pressing the phone against his ear with one hand.

"Kono, you got something?"

She got straight to the point. "Yes... and at the same time, no."

Chin frowned, and shook his head slightly at her vague answer. "What's that supposed to mean?" As he waited for her to explain, he moved through the doorway, and glanced distractedly around Steve's bedroom.

"Someone dropped something off at the office, Chin," Kono explained, the tightness in her voice evident over the phone, "It was addressed to 'The Five-0 Team'."

Wrinkling his brow in confusion, Chin paused in the middle of the floor so he could concentrate on his cousin's words. _What? Addressed to the team? What does this have to do with finding out where Steve and Danny went?_ In spite of his curiosity, he had a bad feeling about this. For some reason, Kono sounded worried sick, and not a little afraid. Those were two emotions that his kick-ass cousin hardly ever seemed to experience. And even when she did, she very rarely let it show.

"Did you open it? Kono?" He fought to keep his impatience out of his tone as Kono hesitated, the silence on the other line echoing back at him mockingly, "Cuz, what is it? Is it about Steve and Danny?"

"Yeah," Kono's voice shakier than Chin had ever heard it before. "I opened it, Chin, and..."

She trailed off again, and suddenly, Chin knew he did not want to hear his cousin's next words. They had spent so many hours together, even when he couldn't see her face, he could read her tones as easily as an open book. And he could tell what she was about to tell him was something he did not want to hear.

"Kono?" He lowered his voice, his gaze wandering thoughtlessly out the window behind Steve's bed. The light was gray, and he could hear the sounds of wind whistling around the hollows of the roof, and tearing at the trees. "Kono, what is it?"

As impatient as Chin was for Kono to continue, and whatever he had been expecting to hear, it certainly wasn't the words his cousin spoke the next moment.

"I-It's a picture of Danny, Chin," Kono's voice quivered slightly as she spoke, "He, uh," She cleared her throat before continuing in a slightly muted tone, "The picture... he..." She took a deep breath, the sharp _inhale _loud over the line, and then blurted out the words, "Chin, someone painted a red "X" over Danny's face."

A flood of dread spread across Chin's body, weighing his limbs down, and for a moment he couldn't move. He felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. His mind immediately took off, racing a hundred miles per hour, calculating, adding up, piecing together. _No, _he thought frantically, _no. Not again._

Kono was speaking again, her voice teetering on panic, and with an effort, he forced himself to focus on her words.

"Chin, I have a bad feeling about this. They haven't called, they probably don't have service, and now with this storm coming up and all the systems down, we can't trace either of their phones. If someone went after Danny while they were up on the mountain today..." She trailed off, and taking a deep breath, Chin blinked furiously, and shook his head to clear the muddled thoughts from his racing brain.

"Kono," He steadied his voice with an effort, and spoke calmly, "Is the envelope marked? Does it say anything?" Still holding the phone to his ear, Chin forced himself to resumed his search, more determined then ever to find a clue - any clue - to where Steve and Danny had gone.

"Yeah, on the back of the picture it says, _'We never forget. Now you won't either.'"_ Kono paused, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

"This is starting to sound like a lot more than a hiking trip gone wrong," Chin muttered, throwing one last glance around Steve's spotless bedroom. "And this, happening right now, is definitely more than a coincidence."

"Yeah." Kono's answer was short, and Chin could hear the worry she was struggling to keep out of her voice. "Did you find anything at Mcgarrett's?"

"No," Gritting his teeth in frustration at the reminder of his fruitless search, Chin whirled around, and hurried down the stairs, his footsteps echoing eerily in the empty, gray house. "I haven't been able to find a single thing here. There's no telling where, exactly, Steve and Danny went. Did you call Kamekona to see if knew where they are? Sometimes they drop by there before going on a hike." After throwing one last hurried glance over his shoulder, Chin exited the house, locking the door behind him.

"I called, couldn't get a hold of him," Kono replied, her tone undeniably tense as Chin hurried down Mcgarrett's driveway, keeping his head down against the stiff wind. "He's not answering his phone."

"Damn it," The wind tore at the door of Chin's car as he opened it, threatening to rip it out of his grasp. Holding his phone between his shoulder and ear, Chin collapsed on the seat of his car, and pulled the door shut behind him with both hands. "And you said GPS still isn't working?"

"Yeah. Nothing's working here. But for some reason, we still have cell-service. Get that." Kono huffed.

"Hmm. Perfect," Chin grunted absently, punching the "speaker" button on his phone, and clicking it onto the stand attached to the controls. Dropping his head into his hands, he sat motionless for a minute, his mind working furiously. There had to be _some _clue that they'd missed. Anything. A word, a phrase that Steve had spoken that would point them in the right direction.

"I can't believe we didn't ask them exactly where they were going," he muttered, more to himself than to his cousin as he raised his head and stared pensively out the window. "All this could have been avoided..."

"Chin," Kono's voice was suddenly steely, unmistakable determination in her tone, "There's nothing we can do about it now. I'm having the letter sent over to Fong, and see if he can get any prints off of it, but everything's been delayed because of this storm. Right now, we just need to focus on finding Steve and Danny."

"Right," Shaking himself, Chin nodded in agreement, grateful - once again - for his cousin's presence of mind. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this edgy, and they really needed to focus. "This letter... it could just be a coincidence; a kids prank, or something, but I really don't think so." Chin wrinkled his brow worriedly. "Something happened up there, Kono, I'm sure of it, but until we find out exactly where Steve and Danny went, we-"

He was abruptly cut off by a slight, unrecognizable beeping sound, and then Kono's voice came over the line excitedly, "Hold on Chin, it's Kamekona. Lemme take this."

The line went silent, and Chin sat impatiently, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited for the return of his cousin's voice. Hopefully she would have some information. Maybe Steve had told Kamekona where they were going. Chin could only hope. He knew earlier that something had been wrong. Either Steve or Danny would've called as soon as they got to a location with cell service. They wouldn't leave their teammates in ignorance of their position; if for no other reason, than to make sure Chin and Kono didn't worry about them.

With a heavy sigh, Chin threw a distracted glance at his watch. _1:15 p.m. We were supposed to meet in 15 minutes. _His mind wandered as he waited, going over and over the new developments carefully. The last thing he wanted to be doing was sitting in his car in Steve's driveway, waiting. He wanted to be doing something... doing _anything. _But until they figured out where their teammates had gone, exactly, there was nothing else they could do.

Danny's picture: a threat - or someone gloating? Was it coincidence that his teammates hadn't checked in? He didn't think so. And the arrival of the letter was too timely - too perfect to be a joke, or pure chance.

A few moments passed, and Chin cast periodic worried glances out the car window, listening to the sound of the rising wind with unease. _Come on, Kono... where are you?_

Almost in response to his thought, his exasperatingly silent phone came alive again, and his cousin's voice came over the line. "Chin, you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. What did Kamekona say?"

"Okay, he said Steve and Danny _did_ stop by his shrimp truck before they went hiking. They were going up to the Ko'olau Mountain Range."

Chin exhaled, and rubbed a hand wearily over his face in relief. Finally, they were getting somewhere. "Okay, okay, good. Anything else?"

"No, not really, except..." Kono hesitated, and took a deep breath before continuing, "I guess, after Steve and Danny left, some guy came up to him and asked where they were going."

"What?" Chin frowned darkly, "Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know," Kono answered tightly, "But I guess he told him, and right after that, the guy left."

"Did he know who the guy was? Why is he giving out information to strangers?" Chin wanted to know, fighting the anger that was rising in his chest. Kamekona was a good man, and a faithful friend, but sometimes - scratch that, _all _the time - he wasn't exactly the brightest penny in the piggy bank.

"He said the guy had been hanging around a lot lately, and that he was really nice. I guess they'd been talking a bit, and Kamekona figured it wouldn't hurt, especially since he said he was a friend of Mcgarrett's. So, he figured it would be alright," Kono explained the conversation with the 'shrimp truck man' in a rush, her voice undeniably tense, and nervous.

"Oh god," Chin groaned, dropping his head into his hands for a moment and squeezed his eyes shut. "Why the hell would he do that?" _Why the hell would he tell anyone where Mcgarrett and Danny were going? It's none of their business._

"I don't know," Kono sighed, "You know Kamekona. He's a good guy. Wants to help everyone out."

"Yeah," Chin growled, "But this time, I think he might have helped the wrong person out; I don't think that was a friend of Steve's." Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Chin raised his head, and jammed his keys into the ignition. "Kono? I'm on my way back, alright? Meet me at the Governor's place. We'll have to get a chopper in there ASAP, as soon as this storm blows out."

There was no time to waste. If instinct was anything to go by, their teammates unusual silence, that unsettling picture of Danny delivered to their very door, and Kamekona's own report more than likely meant Steve and Danny were in trouble. Which was what Chin had been feeling ever since the storm had risen so unexpectedly. But with the information Kono had just given him, it was more than a premonition; they finally had something to go on, and they had to act on instinct. _That_ was something Steve himself had taught them, and now, they had to go about it as quickly as they possibly could.

Hopefully they weren't too late.

"I'll be there," Kono answered firmly. Then, "Oh, and... Chin?" There was an unmistakable tremor in his cousin's voice as she spoke, her voice suddenly muted, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Backing out of Steve's driveway, and pulling onto the road, Chin hesitated for a moment before he answered. He knew exactly what she was thinking. They weren't detectives for nothing. He could only pray they were wrong.

"If you're thinking that Steve and Danny are still up on that mountain," Chin replied finally, "and that, somehow, Kamekona gave out information to someone who was targeting them, and that this is a lot more serious than a dead cell-phone battery, or a forgotten phone call?" Chin blew out a heavy breath, his eyes focused on the road as he drove, "Then, yeah, I think we're on the same page, Kono."

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: We'll return to our boys in the next chapter... my apologies to those of you who really wanted more of Steve + Danny in this chapter... I'm trying to shorten my chapters a little, so writing them isn't quite as daunting. And thank you so much to all those of you who have reviewed. I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond to your reviews personally; I figured y'all would rather have another chapter. ;) Thanks for reading guys. Lemme know your thoughts. Pretty please? x_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: YOU GUYS. Really, I am blown away by your kindness. Thank you so so so so much for all the wonderful encouragement, reviews and general support. Like I said before, I would love to respond to each of your lovely reviews in person, but keeping up with the story (as well as just living real life... ha, imagine that!) has been keeping me really busy, and I'm pretty sure y'all would rather just have another chapter. ;) But to anyone who has reviewed, favorited, followed, or even just read my little (big? :P) story, thank you from the bottom of my heart. Y'all are the best._

_(And in response to the Guest user: I'm still not sure about Catherine, but I'm thinking that I probably won't include her in this story. I'm just writing on whim, going wherever the story takes me, but I really didn't see her in the story at the beginning, and I'm thinking it'll probably just be the core4. I hope no one is too disappointed! And some of you expressed your doubts as to whether Steve would make it to the cave... well, I guess you'll just have to see. ;) But I think our SuperSEAL is stronger than we think; he might even surprise Danny, and himself! Haha.)_

_Anyway. Enough of my rambling, my goodness. Enjoy the next chapter! x_

* * *

Danny had never traversed a longer 50 feet in his entire life. It should've been effortless - something he easily do in a matter of moments, but the mountain itself seemed to be working against him, and the process of trying to half-carry the 185 pound SEAL up the side of the slippery, rocky bank was proving to be more difficult than he'd expected.

If it wasn't for Steve, Danny would've curled up at the base of a tree and fallen asleep; let his weary eyes drift closed, and forget the pain, the worry, the anxiety. Heck, even the fear of the oncoming storm paled in importance when compared to his overwhelming desire to doze off.

Sleep, however, was out of the question. Getting caught in a thunderstorm wouldn't help their current situation one bit - and it certainly wouldn't help Steve's rapidly deteriorating condition - and then there was the fact that _sleeping _was the last thing Danny should be doing. Any head injury, no matter how minor, had to be treated with caution and care, and a gunshot graze to the skull wasn't exactly on the 'minor' list when it came to head injuries.

As they moved slowly up the steep bank, Danny cast a furtive glance sideways out of the corner of his eye, taking in the ashen pallor of his partner's face, and the expression of barely concealed agony with a single, helpless glance. Steve was struggling valiantly to hide his pain, but the tightness of Mcgarrett's pale lips, as well as the beads of sweat that were forming on his brow, and dripping down the man's ashen face belied his blank expression, and told Danny how much his partner was suffering.

That, and the fact that Steve was holding onto Danny's shoulder with a grip that was half painful in it's intensity. Danny didn't mind - in fact, he welcomed the unconsciously inflicted discomfort. It took his mind off of the gravity of their situation - at least, for the moment. And besides that, it showed that Mcgarrett was still fighting; still hanging on with the dogged stubbornness so usual for him.

They were close to the top... only a dozen more steps, or so, and they would be there. So close. _Almost there, Steve. Almost there._

The Ex-SEAL's respirations were coming in gasping, labored breaths, and the tension throughout the his entire body promised a collapse if Steve let his iron guard down for even a single moment, but Mcgarrett didn't complain, and once again, Danny was amazed at the Ex-SEAL's un-human amount of strength. He was sure if _he_ had been the one shot, he would still be back slumped against the tree, unable to find the strength to move. Storm or no storm.

But, in spite of Steve's incredible strength, he was weakening, and at the moment, Danny was beginning to wonder if his partner would even be able to make it to the cave. And, truth be told, the thought had crossed Mcgarrett's pain foggy mind more than once.

The SEAL's arm heavy on his shoulder, Danny puffed out a forced breath, and cleared his throat dryly in an attempt to gain his partner's attention without having to speak, but the sound went unnoticed. The rising wind was making hearing difficult; anything besides the sound of blood rushing in his ears, and the sharp _inhale, exhale _of the men's combined ragged breaths was nearly imperceptible.

_So it's gonna be like that, huh? _Gritting his teeth with a half-exasperated, half-exhausted sigh, Danny spoke breathlessly, his voice raspy in the muted, heavy atmosphere,

"Steve, how you doing babe?" It took all Danny's concentration to focus on the trail, and not the various aches and pains that were screaming at him for attention. Already, his arms were aching from the weight he was supporting, his bad knee had threatened to give out on him numerous times, and his head was throbbing fiercely with every step. "Steven, you hanging in there? We're almost to the trail, babe, alright?"

With a grunt, Steve raised his head laboriously at the sound of his partner's breathless voice, and directed a quick, expressionless glance towards the blond man's face but speaking was too much effort, so he stayed silent. His lungs felt like they were on fire, burning sharply with every panting gasp. Focusing on taking one step at a time, he dimly wondered how the exasperating talkative man managed to find the oxygen to speak, when Steve himself was finding it difficult to suck in enough air to keep going.

But then, Danny never had a difficulty when it came to talking - his problem usually included the inability to shut up.

_Yeah, Danny, __I can see we're almost to the trail, thank you, Mr. Obvious. _Apparently he hadn't spoken the sarcastic words out loud, because through the rushing in his ears, he heard Danny's voice again, dimly, wavering, as if a great distance separated them, but the tone was unmistakably stubborn,

"Hey, Steven, you hear me, babe? You hang in there, hmm? We're almost there, and as soon as this storm is over, we'll get off this mountain. I'll bet Kono and Chin are already looking for us, and when we get back, we're gonna be in big trouble for missing that meeting you set up this morning..."

The blond man's voice merged into a tone of static as a slight, jolting stumble on Danny's part sent a sharp stab of agony flooding over Mcgarrett with renewed vengeance, spots dancing before his eyes; gritting his teeth to keep back the cry that rose in his throat, and pushing away the invading blackness, Steve focused on moving forward; always moving - persistently, steadily, painfully.

_Keep going, Steve. _Left, right, left, right. One foot in front of the other in an endless cycle. _Focus. _Danny was speaking again - or maybe he had never stopped? - and with an effort, Steve struggled to focus on what he was saying.

"...it wouldn't surprise me if Chin and Kono have the Governor backed into a corner, you know, doing everything they can to get up here as soon as this storm blows out. After all, they learned their most stubborn traits from you, and..." Unaware of his partner's struggle, Danny rambled on, somehow finding the strength - and the oxygen - to keep up a steady flow of senseless words as they staggered forward. After all, rambling was something Danny was extremely proficient at.

_It's okay._

_They'll find us._

_This storm will be over before you know it._

Hollow, empty words. Even as he spoke, Danny knew he himself didn't believe them.

He had been trying to convince himself that their situation wasn't all _that _bad ever since they'd started out, but he knew better. The pit in his stomach told them their 'adventure' was far from over; Danny knew his partner had a perfectly clear view of the reality of their situation - probably clearer than Danny himself did - and the Navy man wasn't at all convinced. Not one bit. _  
_

"Hey, Steve, you hear me?" Danny puffed, shaking his head to clear the droplets of sweat that were managing to find their way into his eyes. "I hope you're not gonna make ignoring me a habit, babe, because I can tell you right now, it's not at all flattering."

Steve's lips twitched slightly in amusement. _Really, Danny? I could really care less if it's flattering at the moment._ Blinking laboriously against the blackness that was constantly hovering around the edges of his vision, Steve licked his lips and cleared his throat; he might as well answer, because Danny wasn't going to stop his nagging until he did. "Y-yeah, sure... thing... D'nno." His voice was exasperatingly weak, and the words were barely audible, but he didn't care; at least Danny had heard him.

"'Sure thing, Danno'?" Raising an eyebrow, Danny threw a searching glance at his friend's face, before refocusing on the uneven ground beneath his feet, panting out challengingly, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just..." Steve shivered involuntarily as a cool breath of wind tickled his sweat soaked arms, and neck, and rolled his eyes wearily. "N-Nothing."

_Nothing. _Danny frowned in annoyance, but, for once, didn't pursue Steve's trademark evasion. _Sure. Nothing.__  
_

A few moments dragged by without another word, and still, they toiled upwards; once, Danny tripped over a protruding rock, and, unable to keep back the cry that rose in his throat at the sudden movement, Steve's gasp of pain split the heavy air with surprising clarity. His vision flickered as Danny righted himself awkwardly, murmuring a choked "sorry, sorry" under his breath as he did so.

"Sorry," Staggering momentarily, before regaining his footing, Danny's heart clenched painfully at the visible effort his friend was making to regain control over himself. Clenching his jaw tightly, he couldn't keep the desperation out of his tone as he said softly, "Steve... I'm sorry, babe."

Still panting from the sudden wave of pain, Steve determinedly blinked away the sudden moisture in his eyes, and tried his best to steady his voice, but it still trembled noticeably as he gasped out, "S-Still tripping over... rocks, Danno?"

At the unmistakable teasing tone behind the tight words, a slight smile touched Danny's lips, "You got it, babe," he grunted, "At least you aren't laughing this time, eh?" He smirked slightly at the soft snort that answered the sarcastic comment, and maneuvered carefully around another jagged rock; there was no need to _aim_ for the rocks, since he seemed doomed to trip over them anyway.

Smirking weakly, Mcgarrett noted the deliberate movement with grim amusement, but didn't comment. It took every bit of air in his lungs to keep up the pace Danny was setting, slowly ascending the steep, rocky bank with a steady persistence and tenacious determination usually reserved for Steve himself. The arm around his waist steadied him, but the painful pressure on his ribs - which were more than likely cracked, or at least bruised, from his collision with the tree - only made breathing more difficult, and he realized his chance of reaching the cave greatly depended on whether he passed out first from the lack of oxygen.

That would definitely be a first.

"Steve?" Tightening his grip on his friend's waist, Danny noted Steve's raspy breathing with growing concern; the pain, the exhaustion, and the steep incline were taking their toll on the wounded man. Pushing away the distracting thoughts, Danny shook his head determinedly, and, without taking his eye off their goal, panted out breathlessly, "We're almost there, babe."

_Almost there._ Nodding tightly, Steve straightened painfully, and tightened his grip on the shorter man's shoulder, and at the acknowledging nod, Danny took a deep breath, gathering his remaining strength to get up the last steep incline separating them from the trail, and spurred himself forward. Even as he stepped, clumbsy with exhaustion as he was, Danny realized he'd misjudged the distance, and, pitching forward, he nearly lost his tenuous footing on the rocky slope as his foot caught awkwardly on the edge of the steep bank.

A sharp cry echoed through the surrounding jungle from between Steve's clenched teeth at the unexpected torturous movement. A wave of gray washed over Steve's vision, his knees nearly buckling as sharp stabs of pain exploded from his shoulder, and spread throughout his entire body, driving away every sensation except the reality of renewed agony.

Panting with the effort, Danny strained against the opposing force of gravity with stubborn desperation, and pushed away the crippling helplessness that washed over him at the sound of Steve's muffled cry. _No, no, no, _he growled silently, _we are **not** going down._ His legs trembled from the strain, but he finally managed to plant his feet firmly and propel himself and his partner up over the edge of the bank, and onto the packed dirt of the trail with a final burst of energy. White spots dancing before his eyes, Danny staggered forward, panting breathlessly, and paused at the edge of the trail they had last set foot on only an hour before.

"Steve?" Danny managed to gasp out, momentarily distracted by the harsh _inhale, exhale _of his partner's breathing that filled the thickening air, accompanied by Danny's own panting breaths. "We're okay, babe, we made it. You with me?"

_We're okay._

Gasping for air, Steve heard the worried inquiry through the roaring of a river in his ears, but after a moment of harsh silence, he managed to regain control over his voice, and sucking in a shallow, shuddering breath, he raised his head laboriously, "Y-yeah," his chest heaved frantically with the force of his breathing as he focused blearily on the blond man's face, "Y-yeah."

"You sure?" Frowning worriedly, Danny eyed his partner's ashen features and darkly shadowed eyes, but at Steve's jerky but stubborn nod, he let it pass otherwise unchallenged. He didn't have the energy - or the time - to argue. "Okay," he bobbed his head in what he hoped was a confident, reassuring nod, "If you say so, babe."

Moving on was out of the question - at least until Danny caught his breath - and as he took in the dark shadows under his friend's eyes and felt the unmistakable trembling under his fingertips, Danny knew his partner's remaining strength was rapidly waning. Torn between his rising desire to move on, and the undeniable need to rest, Danny finally decided that a short rest wouldn't hurt - and it might actually help in the long run.

Decision made, he grunted out, "We'll rest for a minute, okay, babe?" Steve didn't answer, but Danny caught his tight nod out of the corner of his eye, and exhaling heavily as blessed oxygen flooded his deprived lungs, Danny raised his gaze to the sky, immediately remembering the storm as he took in the ominous clouds; renewed dread washed over him at the sight of the black sky.

Far off in the distance, another deep 'kaboom' of thunder echoed, rolling and repeating eerily amongst the craggy ridges and soft hollows of the land with ominous promise. Even the trees overhead looked threatening - their branches were harsh outlines against the shadowed sky, and the rising wind whistled through the leaves like a discordant, wild melody.

_Blast this storm._

With a muffled groan, Danny dropped his gaze to the trail, searching the surrounding jungle for any sign of the promised cave. Now that they were half-way to safety, his weariness was quickly being overshadowed by anxiety, and he knew they needed to move; wherever that blasted hole in a rock was, the best thing to do at the moment would be to simply get there.

Danny huffed softly. Easier said than done.

With a sigh, Danny turned back to his friend determinedly, and saw that Steve's head had fallen against his chest as he stood, leaning heavily on Danny's aching shoulders; the Ex-SEAL's face was pale - even more so that it had been before, if that was possible - and pain was clear in every line around his tight lips. Wincing sympathetically, Danny licked his lips, and spoke softly, "Babe, I'm sorry, but we gotta go. You ready to go?"

"J-just..." Raising his head, Steve caught Danny's gaze as his panting words were cut off by a raspy cough that shook his entire frame; his vision flickered, but he gritted his teeth determinedly, and continued doggedly, "Just... hold on. Give me another... minute, D-Danny, alright? J-just a second." The trip up the side of the steep bank had taken more out of Steve than he cared to acknowledge, but his request was partially for Danny's sake. The blond man was visibly exhausted, and he could see the weariness in his partner's eyes as Danny hesitated, uncertainly. "Just a second, D'nno," Steve repeated, sensing victory at the sight of the indecision written all over Williams tight face.

"Steve..." Taking in his partner's pale features, Danny hesitated uncertainly; he hated to refuse, but if they didn't get to shelter before the storm hit, they might not make it. Plain and simple. And that was not a risk Danny was willing to take - for himself, or for his notoriously accident-prone partner. With a sigh, he continued, "Babe, as much as I would love to hang around out in the open while a storm gets imminently closer, with bolts of lightning and freezing rain, we really need to ge-"

Gritting his teeth in weary exasperation, Steve sighed. _C'mon Danny, stop fighting me._ "D-Danny. J-Just... please."

_Please? _Danny raised his eyebrows in surprise at the sudden, unmistakable plea in his friend's tone, but the look in the dark-haired man's eyes told him that refusing would be useless; Steve was still as stubborn as hell, even in his weakened condition and they were both exhausted. A moments rest wouldn't hurt. "Alright, babe," Danny exhaled heavily, and gave a weary nod. "Alright, but just a few minutes, you hear me?"

Steve grunted in relief, and nodded, letting his heavy eyelids drift closed, shutting out the whispering green trees and black sky, even for a moment. _Just a few minutes. _That would work; a few minutes was all he needed.

**TBC **

* * *

_A/N: This chapter originally had close to 5,000 words, but I cut it down some... haha. But hey, half of the next chapter is already done, so hopefully I'll have it up this weekend sometime. (No promises though.) Thank you guys so much for reading... really, I can't tell you how much all your support means to me. As always, please review, and tell me your thoughts! They definitely speed up my writing. (And thank you SO much for all your kind words on the last chapter! I was pleasantly surprised at how much you liked it, even without our two favorite boys. ;)) xx_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: __I made a few changes to the last chapter... go back and read it if you want. It's a wee bit lighter, a little more Steve-centric. I wrote Chapter 11 late at night, I was exhausted, and reading it the next day, I realized I was making **myself** depressed, and, truth be told, it wasn't the best writing I've ever done. haha. So I changed it up; added a little more humor, and made it not quite so heavy. The storyline didn't change though, so it's totally up to y'all if you read it again. ;)_

_And this is short. Really short. Sorry, guys. Life is really picking up lately, and I have even less and less time to write; don't worry, though. I'm not going anywhere. I'll still try to post at least once a week. ;) xx_

* * *

_Left, right, left, right._

Repeat.

_Left, right, left, right._

Repeat.

_Left, right, left, right._

Repeat.

Danny found himself counting along with the repetitive sequence in his mind as he moved forward; it helped distract him. It distracted him from the huge drops of rain that had started falling from the black sky only a few moments before, from his own exhaustion and pain, and from the ever-present sense of hopelessness that threatened to overwhelm his mind. It helped somewhat, but couldn't completely erase the unease and overwhelming exhaustion that was slowly sweeping over him. And the rain wasn't helping brighten his thoughts, either.

The warm rain Hawaii was known for felt unusually ice cold on his sweat soaked skin as the drops fell from the sky in chilling sheets - he'd never seen drops so big. His t-shirt - previously soaked with sweat, and blood; Steve's blood - was now sopping wet, and clung to his upper body like a chilling coat. And the SEAL was faring no better.

Steve hadn't spoken since he'd panted out the directions to the cave, and Danny flicked a hasty glance at his partner's sweat-streaked face, murmuring softly, "We're almost there, babe," He ran his tongue over his dry lips, and unmistakable relief swept over him as, true to his statement, through the thicket of trees, the entrance of the cave came into view.

"There it is. Home sweet home." Danny noticed without particularly caring that his weak attempt at humor was lost on his partner; in fact, Steve barely seemed to hear him. The Ex-SEAL's breathing was harsh, and shallow, every raspy breath pained and unnaturally ragged.

"Steve?" Danny grunted, panting breathlessly and wrapping his fingers more tightly around the arm slung over his shoulder, "You hear me? We're almost there," The pulse under his fingertips was thrumming unsteadily, and with a rising feeling of dread, Danny noticed that it was erratic, and faint - even fainter than it had been before - and much too fast._C'mon, babe. We're so close. _"Steve, you hang in there, okay?"

_Almost there. _Steve heard the words through a haze of exhaustion, but only managed a grunt and a half-nod in response. Every foot they had covered over the past 10 minutes felt like a mile. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so utterly drained. The sharp stabs of agony in his shoulder had faded - only slightly, but Steve noticed the shift - and a wave of gray numbness was creeping over his body at the sheer exhaustion that dragged down every movement. It wasn't a good sign, Steve knew that for certain, but he was too tired to dwell on the meaning. Even something as simple as speaking was almost out of his reach.

He was tired; tired of the rough trail that caught his dragging footsteps, tired of the uncomfortable pressure on his ribs from Danny's arm that was wrapped securely around his waist, and tired - oh so tired - of the pain that rolled over him in alternating sensations of red hot agony and icy cold waves. The short rest on the trail that he had requested - partially for his partner's benefit, as well as his own - had helped allay his ever-increasing exhaustion slightly, but the sharp stabs of agony that refused to abate was quickly overwhelming his stubborn determination and tenacity.

_Almost there._

Covering the last 15 feet seemed to take an eternity, but finally, legs trembling with strain and exertion, the two men stumbled forward through the ever increasing drops of rain. Breathless, Danny raised his head to gaze cautiously into the shadowed depths of the cave. He squinted calculatingly through the hanging vines that hung over the entrance, but the cave was undeniably empty; the floor was made of smooth, gray rock, and moss grew on the craggy walls, but surprisingly, there was no trace of animal inhabitants.

_Well, that's something, at least, _Danny thought wryly. Even he knew caves were a favorite hideout for all manner of animals, and he was unspeakably relieved that he didn't have to fight off so much as a territorial rabbit - he was pretty darn sure at this point, he would've lost.

_A cave. _It definitely wasn't the best place to wait out a storm, but still, it was better than nothing.

"D'nny..." Steve raised his head laboriously, and squinted through the raindrops as his partner continued to hesitate on the threshold, "Danny, what are you doing? I-If you want to avoid getting even wetter, y-you're gonna... have to... go inside." His tone was controlled, and he was careful to keep his utter exhaustion out of the words, but, in spite of his best efforts, his voice was anything but steady. The cold rain was quickly sapping what little warmth had been in left in his body, and he was struggling to stay on his feet.

"What?" Danny shot his partner a quick glance, before realizing he was still poised reluctantly outside the rocky depths of the cave, "Oh," he grunted wryly, wrinkling his face into a comically wry expression, "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Grunting in amusement, Steve smirked weakly, but, ignoring it determinedly, Danny took a deep breath, as if preparing to dive into deep water, and staggered forward. The green vines across the entrance split easily as he ducked his way through them, and came to a hesitant stop on the other side.

Danny noticed the change in temperature immediately - the cave was cool, but without the chilling wind that accompanied the steady rain, it was noticeably warmer than outside. The natural rocky formation was smaller inside than he'd expected - at 7 feet tall, and about the same width, and depth, it was barely large enough for two full grown men, but Danny noticed with reluctant satisfaction that it was dry inside. At least he wouldn't have to sit in a puddle on the floor.

His careful observations only took a matter of seconds, but even as the blond man paused just over the threshold, the fierce fight Steve had been putting up ever since he'd first regained his feet suddenly came to an abrupt end. And Steve knew he was most definitely on the losing side.

The facade of strength, the mask of indifference, the last remnant of invincibility was suddenly stripped away at the knowledge that rest - blessed rest - was finally within reach, and all at once, he could go no further. Steve had been trained to handle all forms of hardship - pain, exhaustion, anxiety - but apparently the relief that swept over him was enough to strip away everything keeping him together - that one, small emotion reminded Steve that he was, in fact, human.

"D'nny..." he managed to grunt out, black spots dancing before his eyes in a myriad of movement, "I-I..." The words died on his lips abruptly, and without warning, his knees buckled; Danny's firm grip around his waist was the only thing keeping him from face-planting on the cool, rocky bottom of the cave as he sagged forward.

"Steve? Oh, god, wha-" At his partner's gasping words, Danny tightened his grip around his partner's waist just in time to keep the taller man from slumping limply to the ground as Steve went limp, his arm falling weakly off the blond man's shoulders in his graceless downward descent. "Whoa, babe," Danny grunted, gently eased the trembling man to the ground, and propping him up against the gray side of the cave. "Steve, hey, you listening to me?" Danny couldn't keep back a groan as he crouched down next to his partner, his knee shrieking in protest. Keeping a firm grip on Steve's arm, Danny felt the tremors running through Steve's body, and his throat tightened painfully. "It's alright, babe, you made it. We're here, okay? We made it."

_We made it. _Steve's eyes were fixed on his partner's face with an expression of agonized weariness, but at the blond man's reassuring words, Steve gave a tight, acknowledging nod, and finally let his head fall against the side of the cave with a shuddering sigh, his eyes drifting shut in pure, undisguised relief.

_We made it._

* * *

"You did _what_?" With a jerk, Stuart Mackintosh raised his head, and stared at his brother in angry amazement, "You _asked_ where Williams and Mcgarrett were going, and then you followed them and completed the job? What were you thinking? What were you _thinking_? Why didn't you just post it all over Oahu that we were hired to kill Danny Williams, huh?" Furiously, Stuart pushed himself off the metal chair he had sunk onto a moment before, and stalked towards the cowering man before him, "_This _is why we don't get hired, Jake! Carter hires us to get the intel, find the targets, and get the job done. Clean! If we get this pinned on us, the cops will have no problem connecting us to other murders over the years. And this time, it won't be a few years in jail, it'll be life. Life, Jake!"

Standing in the middle of one of the huge, empty rooms in an abandoned warehouse in downtown Honolulu, Jake Mackintosh gazed fearfully at the yelling man, but made no response as his brother ranted, waving his hands through the air in anger that was daunting to behold. He had learned long ago that the best response to his older brother's rages was submissive silence.

Upon his arrival, and after locating his brother in the maze of hollow rooms, Jake had promptly gone over the events of the morning, concluding with his assertion that Danny Williams - and Steve Mcgarrett - were most definitely dead. Stuart Mackintosh was thorough however - too thorough - and with careful questioning, he had managed to work out the remaining details; including how and where Jake had gotten his intel, which had brought on the storm of anger - almost as fierce as the unexpected storm that had arisen outside.

"It's not that bad," Jake interjected tentatively, as his brother paused for breath, "There's nothing to connect us. I told the shrimp truck man that I was a friend of Mcgarrett's, and if they're both dead anyway, nothing can give us away."

"Not that bad?" Stuart shook his head in thinly disguised disgust. "I guarantee you, it is 'that bad', Jake." He took a threatening step towards his brother, and poked his finger in the man's face, "You just better hope Williams is as dead as he's supposed to be. I don't care about Mcgarrett, and we can always move on if things get ugly, but we got paid for one job, and if it's not done right, we'll have to go back and finish it. And that," Stuart spat out the word, "costs us money."

"He's dead," Jake insisted, unease washing over him as he thought of his brother's previously ignored order to make sure the job was done correctly. He was confident in his own abilities, but, like his brother had previous pointed out, Danny Williams and Steve Mcgarrett had an unusual habit of showing up alive long after they'd been assumed dead. Pushing the thought aside, Jake swallowed tightly, and nodded, the movement jerky and nervous. Licking his lips, he repeated with as much confidence as he could muster, "He's dead, I'm sure of it."

Stuart's gaze was distrusting, but he just shook his head. "You'd better be right, Jake," he muttered, turning away, "For your sake, I hope you're right."

**TBC **

* * *

_A/N: So, the boys made it to the cave. Whew. Now, all they have to do is wait out the storm. ;) Thanks for reading, y'all, and as always, please review! xx_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Thank you all - again - for your incredible support on my story! I'm sorry I haven't been able to respond personally to all the lovely reviews I've received, but I wanted to let y'all know how much I appreciate them; I read every single one, and love hearing from you guys. Hopefully one of these days I'll be able to catch up on them. :) And I apologize for the wait... I've had no motivation (or time) to write, but hopefully my muse will come back to me. And this is the 13th chapter... *dun dun dun* Just kidding. I'm not superstitious. ;) Real life... being real... is the only excuse I have for my long absence, and hopefully it'll cooperate from now on. That, and I'm determined to keep writing FUN. It's important - and I was kind of freaking out about needing to update, so I forced myself to wait until it became fun again. It didn't take too long, but then life interfered... so, yeah. Ha. But I'm back, and I hope to post semi-regularly until it's done. ;)_

_Thanks for being the best, y'all. Enjoy! xx_

* * *

At 1:53 p.m., Chin was standing at the window in the main room of HQ, overlooking the parking lot, and listening to the sounds of the storm as it battered the building with gusts of wind, and sheets of chilling rain. The storm had hit around 1:30 with the ferocity of a hurricane, and the beautiful and terrifying spectacle playing out before his eyes was both unsettling and exhilarating. The trees around the Iolani Palace were bent over in the force of the wind, and rain pelted the windows in a discordant, eerie rhythm as he peered outside, a worried frown on his usually care-free face.

_Only half an hour longer, _he thought absently, staring ahead unseeingly, _Half an hour._

According to the weatherman, that was when the storm was supposed to die out; the bad weather had been unpredicted, but by the time the radars caught the incoming storm, it had already been determined that it would be fierce, but short-lived. That was the first good news Chin had heard all day. Tossing another glance at his watch, and blowing out a heavy sigh, he could only hope the prediction was accurate. _Half an hour._

The storm shouldn't have unsettled him as much as it did. In fact, he knew it wouldn't have unsettled him much at all if it hadn't been for the horrible implications behind the picture of Danny Williams that had been delivered to the Five-0 office. Chin could only imagine the reasons for Steve and Danny's unusual silence, and he was pretty darn sure it was only partially connected to the storm.

If anything had happened to Danny or Steve... _No. Don't even go there. _Chin dismissed his dark thoughts with a shake of his head, and, turning away from the window, resumed the steady, restless pacing he'd been lost in since his arrival at the "Palace" half an hour before. He couldn't bring himself to sit down - he was too nervous, and wound too tight to even consider relaxing. And the eerie whistling of the wind, and the sharp patter of rain on the window pane did nothing to allay his rising sense of unease.

After stopping by the Governor's residence to fill the man in on Steve and Danny's assumed situation, Chin and Kono had made their way back to Headquarters just as the storm hit. It would have been much easier to fill the Governor in over the phone, but Chin was sure the man would want to hear the recent developments in person; he was extremely particular when it came to communication with "his" Five-0 team. Denning had promised a chopper as soon as the weather allowed it, and Chin was grateful. The dark-skinned man was usually inscrutable, and exasperatingly passive, but he held nothing back when it came to resources where the safety of his team was concerned.

_If only we could get a trace on Steve or Danny's cellphones, _Chin sighed heavily, _That would make things a lot easier._

As soon as they'd arrived, Kono had immediately glued herself to the screen in hopes that they would be able to triangulate the coordinates, and - hopefully - get a location on their missing teammates. But the systems were all down, and in spite of Kono's persistent work, it still hadn't seem inclined to start working any time soon.

"Kono," Chin paused in his restless pacing, and threw a quick glance at his cousin, who was bent over the smart table, "Anything yet?"

"No," Kono raised her eyes to her cousin's face with a gaze of obvious frustration and worry, before returning to her work with single-minded focus, "No," she sighed tightly, "Nothing."

Chin gritted his teeth, and rubbed a hand over his face wearily. It figured. "Just keep trying, alright?" Kono gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, and Chin resumed his repetitive trek across the floor, his shoes squeaking slightly as he paced restlessly. Back and forth. Back and forth.

The overwhelming sensation of helplessness was crippling; exhausting, frustrating. His family - his ohana - was in danger, and there was nothing he could do except wear a hole in the floor, waiting for nature's wrath to subside.

Waiting was not something Chin was naturally good at. He should've been accustomed to it - the very nature of his job required patience, and usually, he was able to wait semi-patiently for clues about the current case to be discovered. But when it came to his friends... when his teammates were the ones waiting for help - and Chin could only assume they were in trouble - it was a different story. In fact, it was an _entirely_ different story.

They hadn't heard anything from Fong yet concerning the disconcerting picture, and they had no clues - no idea where to begin investigating the current situation. Not that they could focus anyway, when the fate of their teammates was still unknown. Chin ran a hand through his hair, and threw another pensive glance outside the rain-streaked window.

There was nothing to do but wait.

* * *

_Laughter, a steady exchange of exasperated but friendly words broken by periodic uneasy glances cast towards the sky, and into the underbrush. Gray sky, rustling leaves overhead, unspoken words and sentences interrupted by a sudden barrage of noise - familiar noise, and unsettlingly out of the place, echoing with deafening finality through the jungle._

_A desperate cry ringing through the air, a familiar form coming between the whistling projectile and the intended target, the dull thud of a body hitting the ground, eyes meeting - the unsettling presence of fear visible in wide, blue eyes - followed by a sensation of pain, a burst of light, and inky darkness..._

With a shuddering gasp, Danny shoved the images dancing before his eyes away forcefully, peeled his heavy eyelids open, and peered around, his heartbeat thundering in his chest wildly as a boom of thunder shook the ground, vibrating the walls of the cave with a terrifying but beautiful force, only to die away in the distance, leaving behind the steady thrum of rain.

_Just thunder, Danny._ With a muffled sigh, Danny leaned back against the cold stone behind his back, and rubbed his aching forehead shakily, forcing himself to take deep, calming breaths. _Blast this storm._

There were no bullets whistling through the air. He wasn't on the side of the mountain, trying to escape a sniper, and the ominous approach of a thunderstorm. The only thing before his eyes was the rocky, gray boundaries of the cave, the only sounds in his ears were the recurring boom of thunder, the steady hiss of rain pounding the already treacherous mountainside into slick mud, and the faint, raspy _inhale, exhale _of his breathing, and that of his partner's.

That was all.

No snipers. No whining bullets. They were safe. At least, as safe as they could be, considering that they were on the side of a huge mountain, in a cave, waiting out one of the most severe storms Danny had ever been caught in.

Besides that, and the fact that Steve had been shot, Danny was most definitely hindered by the relentless throbbing in his head and knee, and the probability that rescue was, at the very least, a few hours away, they were doing fine. Yeah. Just fine.

_Steve. _A slight frown spread over Danny's face at the thought of the kick-ass SEAL's uncharacteristic stillness, and disturbing silence. Slumped against the wall of the cave, his eyes closed, Steve hadn't said a word since their arrival at the cave. In fact, neither of them had. After Danny had nearly forced a bottle of water and a few painkillers - found in Steve's handy black pack - down his stubborn partner's throat, Danny had allowed himself to join Steve gracelessly on the cold floor.

_I must have drifted off, _Danny realized, remember the peal of thunder that had jolted him out of the haze of sleep. He could've stayed where he was for much longer - drifting off again would have been so, _so _easy - but the nagging worry ever present in his mind wouldn't let him. And the next minute, the hoarse rasp of a shuddering cough pulled his mind from the exhaustion-induced wonderings, snapping him to attention instantly, his exhaustion forgotten.

"Hey," Turning his head, Danny pushed himself off the wall of the cave painfully, wincing as the movement aggravated the ever present throbbing behind his eyes, and shifted his body slightly so he could clearly see his partner's face, "Hey, babe, take it easy, huh?"

Steve was still slumped against the wall, but the previously seen expression of relaxation was absent from his pale features. His teeth were gritted, breath coming in panting heaves, but thankfully the cough didn't have the hacking quality that had alarmed Danny before. But still, the Ex-SEAL looked horrible. His face was taut, and soaked with sweat, his eyes squeezed shut tightly, but a slight tinge of color had washed over his previously deadly-white features. Danny hoped it wasn't the flush of a fever.

"Hey," Danny gripped Steve's arm gently to get his attention, and squeezed gently, in hopes that the contact would convey some sort of comfort - even if all it did was remind the injured man that he wasn't alone. "Hey, take it easy."

After a painfully long moment, the coughing ceased, and Steve took a ragged breath, the tenseness throughout his shoulders visibly retreating as he was once again able to breathe freely. "D'nny, I-I," Steve licked his lips, and forced his heavy eyelids open to focus laboriously on Danny's face with a disconcertingly clear but pained gaze, "I am taking it easy, Danny. I-I'm just sitting here."

Danny squinted in disbelief, and rolled his eyes. _Seriously, Steve?_ He gave Steve's sweat-soaked arm another gentle squeeze, his reply tinged with gentle sarcasm, "Yeah, I can see that." With a sigh, Danny lowered his voice, and leaned forward to inspect his partner's face carefully. "How ya doing?"

"Y-You know, you keep asking the same question, and you're probably gonna get the same answer," Steve's pale lips spread into a tight smile, and he arched an eyebrow, "Still feels like I've been shot, D'nny." The constant, relentless stabs of pain were wearing down Steve's dogged refusal to give in to his weakening body, and it was all he could do to keep his face reasonably blank.

From Danny's tight, worried expression, however, he was sure that his partner could see through his facade, so he added as reassuringly as possible, "I-I'm doing okay, D'nny, alright? I've been in situations like this before. Don't worry about me."

"Don't worry about me, he says," Danny huffed softly, "Well, forgive me for caring about your physical health, I keep forgetting your caped status, Superman," Releasing his partner's arm with a slight scowl, Danny leaned forward and fixed his attention on the white bandage around his partner's shoulder; it was still damp from the rain, but there was very little blood on the fabric. That was reassuring.

Raising his head from his inspection, Danny saw Steve was watching him closely, his blue eyes asking an unspoken question. "It's not bleeding anymore," Danny informed him softly, understanding the mute request, "That's good, at least."

A look of relief passed over Steve's shadowed face, and he nodded wearily, "Y-yeah. That's good." Blood loss was always the greatest concern, but despite the pain, the strain on the body and the trauma that accompanied a gunshot wound, most often, stopping the bleeding effectively was what made the difference between life and death. "That's good," Steve repeated hoarsely.

Danny nodded in return, and forced a tight smile, trying to ignore the unease in the pit of his stomach. Sure, the fact that the wound wasn't bleeding was encouraging, but there were many other factors to consider - the greatest one being the increasing risk of infection the longer the wound went without being properly cleaned. But all they could do was wait for the storm to pass.

Flicking his eyes over Steve's face, Danny noted the harsh lines of pain around his friend's pale lips, and etched around the corners of his expressionless eyes. At that moment, Danny wished more than anything for a good syringe full of morphine. Sure, Steve always carried painkillers in his pack, but they were only good for headaches, slight fevers and sore muscles - nothing even close to the powerful effects of morphine - and they wouldn't do much for a gunshot wound. In fact, Danny was slightly surprised that SuperSEAL carried painkillers at all; he never seemed to need them.

_He could definitely use them now, _Danny thought wryly. But what they both needed, more than anything, was to get off the d*mn mountain, and get to safety. And the Ex-SEAL's persistent cough was doing nothing to ease Danny's mind. That was _not _a good sign - even Danny knew that much.

was watching him blearily, an expression of calculating concern on his features, and frowning, Danny snapped to attention. The last thing SuperSEAL-kick-ass-Mcgarrett needed to be doing was worrying about Danny. For once, he should worry about himself.

Danny cleared his throat self-consciously, and forced himself to focus. "Are you sure you're doing, okay, babe?" Danny questioned, resolutely ignoring the frown of annoyance that spread over his friend's pale face at the question, "What's with the coughing, huh? Even leaving out the fact that you've been shot, you should not be coughing."

Blinking in surprise at the sudden sharp quality to the blond man's tone, Steve narrowed his eyes questioningly, and rasped out, "What?"

"You heard me," Danny stubbornly refused to allow the man to evade the question. It was not happening this time. "What's with the coughing? You swallow a bug again or something, or is there something you're not telling me?"

Steve peered into his partner's eyes calculatingly, but Danny was clearly expecting an answer; the blond man's face was set in an expression of stone-hard determination, but concern was also evident on his face. A shuddering, shallow breath of resignation escaped Steve's lips, and he answered dutifully, "No, Danny, I did not swallow a bug. I think..." he winced apologetically, "I think I-I cracked a rib."

Danny's eyebrows inched upwards, and he lifted a heavy arm and ran a hand through his hair, his chest suddenly tightening in frustration and barely controlled anger. _Dangit, dangit, dangit, Steve! _What was the idiot thinking? Squeezing his eyes shut for a split second, before returning his gaze to his partner's pale, apologetic face, Danny growled, "_What? _A cracked rib? Why the _hell _didn't you say something before?"

A wave of exhaustion spread over Steve's face, enveloping him in a warm blanket, and with a sigh, he allowed his head to fall back against the cold wall behind his back, his eyes fixed unwavering on the worried, scowling face of his partner. "Sorry," he murmured apologetically, "Didn't seem important at the moment."

"Oh, it didn't seem important at the moment," Danny waved his hand through the air dramatically, and blew out an exasperated breath. With a grunt, he lowered himself back against the side of the cave, until he was nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with his friend. "What is the matter with you?"

Now he understood Mcgarrett's irregular gasping breaths on their trek to shelter, and the unnaturally long amount of time it had taken for Steve to regain his breath upon their arrival, as well as the pained, hitching breaths taken every time Danny adjusted his grip around the man's waist. "How did you manage to do that, and why the _hell_ didn't you say something, Steven?"

Steve's gaze sharpened at the tight words, and with a grunt of annoyance, he turned his head, and directed a steely gaze at his partner, "When I rolled down the hill, Danny, I collided with the tree. And what good would it have done to tell you, huh? There was nothing you could do, and we had to get to shelter, alright." Steve sighed wearily, and his voice dropped in volume, the level of his exhaustion evident on his face for a split second before he concealed it again, "I-I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Danny, but it would've just delayed the process, and we couldn't afford to wait."

Danny swallowed tightly, and nodded reluctantly. As usual, Steve's logic made a twisted, exasperating sort of sense, and there was no reason to pick apart his partner's actions - it wouldn't change anything. "Alright, alright, fine, but... wait, did you say you've been in situations like this before?" Danny enquired curiously, remember a comment his partner had previously made, "When was that?"

"Can't tell you, Danny," Steve sighed wearily, his voice soft, and barely audible, "It's..."

"Don't say it," Accurately guessing what his partner was about to say, and rolling his eyes, Danny shook his head slightly, and held up a hand, "Do not say classified, Steven, or I swear..."

Lips twitching at the utter annoyance in his partner's tone, Steve laughed brokenly, but a cough quickly followed, and he stiffened as his shoulder once again sent a screaming signal to his brain at the movement, driving away all logical thoughts, and nearly paralyzing him. His vision grayed, and panting through the waves of agony, Steve distantly heard his partner's worried voice speaking in a reassuring tone. The touch of a hand on his arm, grounding him, and forcing away the invading darkness.

"I-I'm..." Steve inhale with a gasp, his breath catching in his throat as he swallowed the rising nausea, and forced out the words, "I-I'm fine, D'nno." Sleep beckoned him with open arms, but Danny was demanding that he open his eyes.

When had he closed them? Steve couldn't remember, but he couldn't bring himself to disobey the unyielding tone either. Lethargically forcing his eyes open, he blinked to clear the ever-present haze before his eyes, as Danny's face blurred in and out of focus.

"No," Danny released a pent-up breath, and leaned forward as Steve's blue eyes focused hazily on his face in response to his commands, "No, you are not fine, Steven. Just take it easy, alright. Stop laughing for goshs' sake, and save your strength."

Steve's eyes threatened to slide shut again, his face taut, and pale but undeniably amused as he rasped out, "Then s-stop making me laugh, D'nno."

"Alright, since I'm obviously so amusing, I'll... hey," Danny tightened his grip on Steve's arm and shook slightly as Mcgarrett's dark eyelashes came to rest on his white cheek, "Hey, no sleeping. Not yet. You gotta tell me about the last time you were 'in a situation like this', alright? What happened?"

Head leaned against the cold cave wall, his face turned towards Danny, Steve didn't open his eyes, but he sighed in exasperation at his partner's dogged questioning. Old habits were too deeply ingrained in his very core to go against regulations. "I-I can't, Danny, it's..."

"Yeah," Danny waved a dismissive hand through the air, and jumped as a louder boom of thunder echoed through the confines of the cave, before continuing his sentence, "I get it, it's classified, but it's not gonna matter if you tell a friend a story about the last time you got shot, right? Just to pass the time, huh?"

Steve hesitated uncertainly at the blond man's unyielding - yet cajoling - tone. All he wanted to do was drift off - release his constantly wavering grip on consciousness, and simply let go of the struggle, the pain, the never-ending fight. At least until the storm blew itself out, and they figured out what the next step was. Maybe, if he shared the very minutest of details, his tenaciously persistent partner would let him sleep.

Maybe. But knowing Danny, it wasn't at all likely.

"Alright," Steve's face contorted as he shifted uneasily against the uncomfortable rock beneath him, just as a sharp crack echoed through the forest, and died away in the hissing rain, "Fine. It's classified, so I-I can't tell you anything except that I was shot on an extraction mission in Afghanistan," His voice trembled slightly, and a shiver ran over his body with a light, fragile touch as a cool breath of wind rustled the vines over the entrance, but he continued, unaware of his partner's intent, worried gaze fixed on his face, "It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out mission, but it went bad. Two of my team were killed, I was shot. Seven days in the jungle, until we were rescued."

Danny raised his eyebrows in surprise at what he was hearing. He had never heard any of Steve's stories of his experiences in the Navy - the man was so guarded, so careful to keep the secrets of his past concealed, that Danny was surprised at the sudden - though rather vague - information being shared. "With your SEAL team?" Danny risked a question.

Steve smirked knowingly at the innocently prying question, but he nodded slightly, the movement strained and nearly imperceptible, "Yeah," his voice sunk in volume, and a wave of pain washed across his face, his lips tightening for an instant before he relaxed again with a shuddering sigh, and gave another shaky nod, blinking sluggishly, "Yeah."

Danny's throat tightened into a knot of helpless desperation, and in spite of his desire to press the man for more answers, he could see his partner was fighting sleep with everything in him. The dark shadows under Steve's eyes were only augmented all the more by the still-too white pallor of his face, and chills wracked his partner's body intermittently as breaths of cool wind swept through the mouth of the cave, accompanied by chilling drops of rain.

"They saved my life, Danny," Steve continued, his voice sinking until it was scarcely more than a whisper, his eyes still closed, "Wouldn't have gotten out of there without them..." his voice trailed off, as another wave of sleep washed over him, muting the pain and discomfort. Fighting through it, determined to finish his sentence, he murmured, "And you... you saved my life today, Danny. I-I..."

"No," Danny flicked his eyes worriedly over the side of his partner's face, but kept his tone calm, and controlled, "No, don't say it. You saved my life today, too, you know. Jumping in front of the bullet..." Danny trailed off, his voice dying out for a long moment. Steve didn't respond, and Danny cleared his throat thickly. "You could've been killed."

It went unspoken that it was quite possible that the fateful bullet could still finish the job, but neither of them deigned to acknowledge the fact. Steve licked his lips dryly; opening his eyes was too much effort, so he didn't even bother. "I couldn't let you die, D'nno," he rasped, the words barely more than a whisper, "You have Gracie, and I-I..."

Danny's throat tightened. For all the man's brilliance, he really didn't understand. Throwing himself between danger and the ones he loved was built into Steve Mcgarrett's very soul, but at times, it came across as carelessness for his own safety. Danny swallowed thickly, and forced himself to speak calmly, although all he wanted to do was shake the idiot. "Steve, I am not your responsibility, alright, and-"

"You're my partner, D'nno, and..." Steve tried to interrupt, but Danny resolutely ignored the weak words, and plowed ahead determinedly,

"No, dammit, Steve, no, I am not your partner right now! I am your _friend, _alright? It is not your job to save the world, or to save me. I appreciate it, alright, I do, but I don't want you to save me. Not if it means getting yourself killed!" His words were drowned out by another crack of thunder that over the mountainside with deafening clarity, the pounding of rain outside increased with the eerie sound.

Danny realized he was still gripping his partner's arm, and with a strangled sigh, he loosened his fingers, and clasped his hands in front of him to still the sudden trembling in his hands as he waited for his partner's inevitable response, but none came.

"Steve?" Danny turned his head sideways, and squinted at his partner's profile in the gray light. Worry formed a pit in his stomach, a hard, cold knot of unease. "Steve, hey, you listening to me?"

Danny's words reached Steve's mind hazily through a fog of sleep, and he tried to answer; really he did, but his tongue refused to cooperate, and all he managed was a muffled, "Danny... I'm... " The words were swallowed as the comforting blackness wrapped his beaten body in a blanket of warmth, and the soothing call was too much to resist. His eyelids were suddenly too heavy to lift, and even Danny's commands to wake up suddenly didn't matter anymore.

Nothing mattered. Nothing except sleep. With a soft sigh, he finally released his tenacious hold on consciousness, and allowed himself to drift into a sea of gray waves and thick darkness.

He didn't hear Danny's panicked commands, or feel the renewed vice-like grip on his arm as he slumped sideways, oblivious to the ongoing ragings of the storm outside.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: Kind of a cliffhanger? ;) hahha. *grins* Sorry. (Not really, actually.) _

_Yeah, I really can't say how sorry I am for the delay in posting this, but I love hearing your thoughts - how do YOu guys think this rescue should play out? Steve and Danny getting off the mountain (or almost off the mountain) by themselves, or Chin and Kono finding them in the cave after the storm? I'm kinda thinking the 2nd one will be more realistic, because now Steve is "out" again. But maybe he'll wake up refreshed, and be able to make it off the mountain? ;) Let me know what you guys think, and thanks for reading y'all! Honestly, you guys are THE BEST._

_And wow, this chapter is really long. Hopefully that will make up for my long absence? *grins hopefully* xx_


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: I really can't apologize enough for my extended absence from this story. Life has been absolutely crazy lately. I was away from home for 2 months, my dad was in a car accident (he's okay, thank goodness), my sister, her husband &amp; 5 kids moved, and although I am not directly involved in some of these events, they still affect me, and add much to my schedule. I also turned 18 and am working on finishing my last year of high school, and getting my GED. (Plus, all the time spent writing my NaNo novel has taken me away from my fanfiction, and as much as I love writing novels, I miss my favorite fictional characters - and all of you lovely folks.) So, I am back, and I am hoping to be pretty regular in posting until I finish this story. :) No promises, though. :P {I think I figured out that one-shots are much more my forte, and writing in present tense works better for me than past tense... lesson learned a little too late. Ah, well. Live and learn, right? After this story is finished, expect many more short stories involving these two boys. ;)} _

_On that note, thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited and reviewed. I have not been able to answer each comment separately, but please know that I appreciate all the support on this story so, so tremendously much. Y'all are the greatest._

* * *

A mere ten minutes after Steve so abruptly decided he was no longer going to be taking an active part in the conversation, the rain stopped. Ten minutes of Danny trying his very best to rouse the unconscious man, ten minutes of relentless, worried persistence, and the storm that had complicated their already rather horribly day ended as abruptly as it started.

Just like that.

One minute Danny was shivering in the cool wind as water blew in the open side of the cave, and the next, the rain had stopped and the sun was breaking through the black clouds overhead, shining rays of golden light over the glistening, wet landscape.

_It's almost beautiful_, Danny huffed grudgingly, even as relief washed over him in a tidal wave. He leaned back against the cool side of the cave with a heavy sigh. The temperature had risen several degrees with the reappearance of the sun, but the combination of heat and moisture was already making the air unbearable sticky. Humidity. Just another thing he hated about this damn place. His clothes were clinging to him with a combination of rain, sweat and blood and at the moment, he wanted nothing more than to shower, get into a change of clean clothes and go to bed for a week.

But being dirty and exhausted were the least of his problems. At the moment, his idiotic, selfless,_ unconscious and bleeding_, damn-superhero partner was the main object of his concern.

Steve's lanky form was stretched out across the narrow confines of the cave, and his head was resting in Danny's lap, as Danny hadn't moved since Steve had practically claimed his lap as a pillow. And truth be told, it wasn't only that Danny _hadn't_ moved, but more that he _couldn't_. His head was pounding like someone was banging on a steel drum inside his skull, and the stiffness that had enveloped his left knee had spread throughout his entire leg now that he was finally still. He could barely move it, and bending it was out of the question.

And the fact that Steve was stubbornly refusing Danny's best efforts to be roused was not helping matters either. The gunshot wound on the man's shoulder was no longer bleeding, but Steve was doing his best to imitate a woodstove, and Danny could feel the heat radiating through their soaked clothes in waves.

"Yo, Steve," Danny lifted his head, wincing as spikes of pain shot through his neck and skull at the movement and tapped his partner's pale face with a finger that shook slightly, "C'mon idiot, time to wake up and get off the mountain. _This_ is exactly what I told you _not_ to do. What have I said about you, and the inability to follow orders?"

His eyes never leaving Steve's alarmingly pale face, Danny waited for an answer; the twitch of a finger, a flickering eyelid, or even better, the sound of his partner's voice answering him in Steve Mcgarrett's own peculiar, haughty fashion, but, as before, there was no response.

Not one thing.

"Damn it, Steve," Danny muttered wearily. He couldn't remember a time when he'd ever seen the man so relaxed - his partner was always, _always_ on the go - always moving, always alert, ready for anything. It was just who he was, and seeing him so unnaturally still wasn't doing anything to reassure Danny.

Danny licked his dry lips, and rubbed his arm wearily across the sweat beading on his forehead. It was more than warm, even in the shade; in fact, it was downright _steamy_. "One of these days you're gonna have to realize you're not superman, Steven," he muttered dryly, "And hopefully that revelation comes before you end up getting yourself killed."

A soft puff of air escaping Steve's parched lips was the only answer, and the silence seemed to press around Danny like a smothering blanket - an unnatural, unfamiliar silence where his partner's typical smartass response should be.

Inspite of the former SEAL's undeniable capability and skill, Danny swore his partner had no self preservation instincts. After Danny had gotten used to the man's impulsive, headstrong behavior and abrasively obstinate personality, worry became 2nd nature. The man did have some rather endearing qualities, after all. Like his habit of putting himself in the line of fire, and scaring his partner - namely, Danny himself - half to death.

_Humph_.

But it wasn't the bullets Steve was jumping in front of, Danny had finally realized. It was _people_. His drive to place himself in the middle of dangerous situations wasn't spurred by the need for a high, or a rush of adrenaline. Danny had realized that every single stupid thing the man did was to protect the people he cared about. He wasn't reckless without cause; saving people was Steve's mission, and Danny knew Steve was more than capable; he was tough and well trained. It had been proved many times.

But he was also only human, and Danny worried that the man was going to end up getting himself killed in a simple op gone wrong - or in a common, everyday situation where _something_ just _had_ to go wrong, and Steve just _had_ to be superman.

A stray bullet, a moment of hesitation or indecision, an unnoticed opponent. It wouldn't take much. Steve Mcgarrett was lucky. Plain and simple. He was also damn good at what he did, but the idiot apparently had 9 lives, and lately, he seemed to be going through them awful quickly; dealing them out carelessly like a shuffled deck of cards.

Bullets were a part of their everyday lives - loading clips, or dodging whistling projectiles in a shootout, bullets were always there. Always. But on the Ko'olau Mountain Range? Those deadly objects had no place there; and as a matter of fact, neither did Danny.

Steve shifted uneasily, his brow wrinkling in pain at the small movement, and Danny leaned forward. "Steve? Steven… hey, open your eyes." The blond man laid a hand on his partner's arm, but jerked back almost immediately, surprised at the intense heat emanating from the injured man. The worry that Danny had been doing his best to suppress came back with full force, and suddenly, he realized just how tired he was. Not only was he physically tired from the hike, and from hauling his ridiculously heavy partner up the hillside, he was mentally tired. Exhausted. And his pounding headache wasn't helping either.

"Oh, babe…" Danny muttered, his voice raspy with exhaustion, as he ran a grimy hand through his still-damp hair. "You're burning up."

The sun was crawling it's way down the sheet of blue sky visible from where Danny was sitting, and shone through the entrance to the cave, sending fragments of sunlight across the rocky floor and illuminating Steve's lax face.

His face was filthy; streaked with a combination of dirt, sweat and blood, but underneath all the grime, his skin was frighteningly pale and sweaty, and his breathing was harsh and labored. Instinct told Danny that this was more than a "simple" gunshot wound. Danny knew how strong his partner was, and he was well educated when it came to the effects a bullet to the shoulder had on a man - due to his own personal experience.

_He shouldn't be deteriorating this quickly,_ Danny thought, his chest tightening at the sound of Steve's labored breathing. But then, when had Steven Mcgarrett ever done anything he was supposed to? "You never do anything half-way, do you, buddy?" Danny sighed, letting his head fall back against the side of the cave, the hard rock biting into his shoulder blades and neck. "It isn't in your nature."

Almost in response to Danny's voice, Steve shifted again, pain written on every feature, and this time an automatic groan emerged from his lips. Danny gritted his teeth in helpless frustration, and laid a reassuring hand on his friend's arm, pushing back the desperation that rose in his chest like a swelling wave with a focused effort. _Hang in there, buddy. Hang in there._

He had done everything he could for Steve at the moment, but one was buzzing in his brain, like a pesky bee following sugar. _Get off the mountain. You gotta get off the mountain._

If Steve was awake, and hadn't been shot by a gosh damn sniper, maybe - maybe - they would have been able to make it off the mountain. However, if Steve was awake and hadn't been shot, their current situation wouldn't even exist. But with the ex-SEAL unconscious and bleeding, and Danny's pounding headache and aching, uncooperative knee, there was no way they were going to walk off the mountain. Especially not after a going through storm of such tremendous magnitude and furocity.

The Danny knew the chances of him making it to the top of the mountain to call for help were just as slim. And the rain had more than likely ruined their cell-phones. He knew there was only one thing to do, and that was to wait for help to arrive. But sitting around while everyone else did all the work went against everything in his nature. There was always something that could be done; something to help speed up the process in any situation Danny had ever been in.

Except this one.

He was tired; so, so tired. The trees outside were blurring together in a mirage of vibrant greens and dark browns, and Danny finally let his eyelids drift shut. The pain in his head wouldn't let him sleep - and considering the helluva concussion he no doubt had, sleeping wasn't the best idea at the moment anyway - but maybe if he allowed himself a few moments rest, inspiration would come to him.

They had to do something; _he _had to do something, and soon. Steve wasn't going to last much longer without help.

* * *

Kono loved O'ahu. It was the only home she'd ever known, and everything from the raspy leaves of palm trees whispering in the salty breeze to the swells of the ocean was a part of her. "It's in your blood," her grandfather had told her, "Everything about this island is a part of who we are. Without it, we are nothing." She'd been surfing since she was barely old enough to walk, following in the footsteps of those who came before her, and over time, everything about the island had become as familiar as the back of her own hand. Even the unexpected and dangerous weather patterns became predictable to those who lived there long enough.

She knew, however, that as beautiful as the wild, untamed land was, it was also deadly to those unused to the ferocity of the Hawaiian weather. Storms came up quickly, and dissipated without causing too much trouble, but seldom did they see an unpredicted storm with as much violence as the one that was raging outside. The palm trees were whipping back and forth in the fierce wind, and rain pelted against the glass windowpane, tapping out an eery rhythm as she paced, back and forth, in front of the window in the team's headquarters at I'olani Palace.

She was worried; more worried than she liked to admit. She knew her boss was a skilled outdoorsman, and even Danny Williams was more than capable in dangerous circumstances, inspite of his grumbling, but they were only human, and had more than likely been caught off guard by the violence of the sudden storm. Even she had been unaware of the gathering clouds until they had nearly blotted out the entire sky.

Storms of this magnitude were enough to make anyone uneasy; even those who had lived on O'ahu all their lives. And if that wasn't enough, there was the disconcerting picture of Danny they had received in the mail. _If they're not alright... _she shook her head, and shoved the ominous thoughts away. There was nothing that insinuated that this was anything more than a delay due to the weather - even the picture might be a practical joke, but the knot in her stomach told her otherwise. Something was wrong. She just knew it.

She was disrupted from her dark thoughts by the sound of her cell phone ringing, and digging it out of her pocket, she glanced at the illuminated screen, and saw the name "Charlie Fong" displayed in blocky letters.

Punching the speakerphone button, Kono slid the phone across the smart table so it was situated between herself, and Chin, who had stalked towards her, his movements hurried and tense as soon as he'd heard the familiar jangling ringtone. "Charlie," Kono said, "What is it?" She asked hurriedly, barely noticing that she had interrupted Charlie's usual polite greeting. "Did you find anything?"

"Kono, hi, yes, as a matter of fact, I did," Charlie Fong's voice came over the phone, polite and professional as always, but Kono thought she detected a slight tinge of worry in his usually cheerful tone. "And I'm actually more than a little surprised that I found anything at all. If this is someone gloating, like you suspect, this is unusually careless, even for an amateur."

Kono raised her eyebrows, and glanced up at her cousin, who was leaning on the table across from her. Inspite of their impatience, Chin and Kono exchanged amused glances; Kono had filled Fong in on their suspicions when dropping off the photograph, and although they valued the help of the lab tech, it was more than a little amusing to hear him take the point of view of a detective.

"What is careless, Charlie?" Chin turned his gaze back towards the phone, and directed his words into the microphone, "What did you find?"

The scientist cut straight to the point. "There were two set of prints on the envelope," Charlie informed them, his voice taking on the "teaching" tone he unconsciously adopted whenever explaining his hard-earned findings, "One set of prints, of course, were yours, Kono, but the others are not in the HPD database. I'm thinking they belonged to the mailman who delivered the envelope."

Kono nodded shortly, momentarily forgetting Fong couldn't see her. That made sense.

"Alright, Charlie, that's great," Chin leaned forward, his fingers tapping the smooth table impatiently, "What about the actual picture? Did you find anything on that?" His usually stoic tone was tinged with impatience, and Kono could hear the worry in his voice - worry she was sure her face reflected.

"Surprisingly, I did." Charlie's voice was barely audible above the roar of the storm, and Kono leaned closer in an attempt to hear every word spoken. "There was only one set of fingerprints on the actual picture," Fong continued, "but they were so smudged, it's taking longer than usual to determine if they're in the system. I'll let you know as soon as I get anything else."

Chin released a heavy puff of air, and straightened up stiffly, running his fingers across his creased brow. It wasn't ideal, but it was something. "Alright, thanks, Fong, we appreciate it." Chin said, his voice exuding weariness and unease, as he ran his fingers across the edge of the table nervously, "Keep us updated."

"Sure thing. Let me know when you find them."

The unspoken "_if_" hung heavily in the air, and Kono ran a heavy hand through her hair as the line went dead. She pushed herself upright and away from the table, her face set in a mask of calculating worry.

Delays, and more delays. If this was a serious threat against Danny, they didn't have any time to waste. They couldn't help their friends while the storm raged, but they could at least be working on the case - if that was what it turned out to be. If this just a practical joke, they would still find the offender, and make sure they never repeated the 'joke'.

But joke or not, and with this bit of information, all they could really do to help their friends until the storm ended, was wait.

"Well," Chin said softly, his eyes flicking to the water stained window, before coming to rest on his cousin's worried face, "I guess all we can do now is wait for the storm to die out." He had barely spoken the words when his cellphone rang, startling loud in the hollow room, making both detectives jump. "What in the-" Digging his phone out of his pocket, and after a glance at the screen, Chin's forehead wrinkled in consternation. The number was blocked. Usually blocked numbers were instantly traced, but since all the systems were down, the only thing to do was answer it. With a slight frown, he pressed the green answer button, and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Hello?"

For a moment, all he heard was static. Then, "Chin Ho Kelly?" A strange voice came through the speaker; a voice Chin was sure he had never heard before, crackling and distorted, as if the caller was in an area with poor cell reception.

Chin tightened his grip on the phone. "This is Chin Ho Kelly. Who is this?" He pressed the phone more firmly against his ear in an attempt to clear the frustrating interference that disguised the voice on the other line. It was clearly male, and inspite of his previous conclusion that the caller was unknown, there was something vaguely familiar about the inflections, and slight accent that he couldn't quite place.

"This is a friend," the man said huskily, "I want to help you."

"Help me?" Chin frowned, unconsciously squaring his shoulders as he struggled to hear through the static, and the rumble of thunder in the background. "How can you help me? What's your name?"

There was something like a harsh laugh on the other end, and then the man replied, amusement evident in his gravelly voice. "My name is not important. What is important is the information I have."

Chin gritted his teeth in frustration, and clenched his free hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hated playing games - and he usually refused to even enter into these kind of conversations. But there was a slight chance - the very smallest fraction of a possibility - that the caller might have useful information. He couldn't afford to refuse to listen, at the very least.

"What information would that be?" Chin steadied his voice with an effort, and raised his eyes to Kono's, who glanced up at him with a curious expression from where she was bent over the smart table, her nimble fingers flying deftly across the shiny surface in an attempt to regain use of the programs.

There was the sound of a loud crash over the line, then a muffled curse, and Chin glanced out the window as he waited for the response to his question, and noticed with some surprise that the fierce, pelting rain had already begun to slow since the beginning of the mysterious phone call, and the black sky was giving way to much less threatening grey clouds. In fact, at the rate the clouds were clearing, the sky would be clear in mere moments.

After another moment, the voice returned, echoing slightly, as if the caller was standing in a large, concrete room, "If you want to help your friends, this is the information you'll need, Lieutenant."

"Which friends would that be?" Chin swallowed dryly, his stomach twisting painfully in a mixture of hope and fear as he awaited the response. Whoever this was, he obviously knew much more about Chin and the Five-0 team than Chin had originally assumed. And this mysterious caller definitely knew more about them than the team knew about him.

The voice on the other line was suddenly cold, and calculating. "Don't play games with me, Detective. I know two of your friends are missing, and if you're as good a cop - and friend - as you claim to be, you'll be interested in finding them. And I am the only one with the information that might assist you in your search efforts."

Chin gritted his teeth angrily. The only people who knew that Steve and Danny might be missing were in that very room, unless their suspicions were correct, and something had happened during the hiking trip to prevent the two men from communicating their whereabouts to the rest of the team.

"And what would you want in return for this information?" Chin's eyes returned to Kono's face, excitement and agitation written across his face, and in his jerky, hasty movements as he strode back and forth along the smooth floor, the phone clutched in white-knuckled fingers as if he was holding onto a lifeline.

"Nothing. All I want in return is for you to remember that I helped you discover them, no matter what happens during the remainder of your investigation. That's all."

Chin cautious hesitation lasted for a few brief seconds. It seemed like a reasonable request, and even if this didn't turn out to be a trustworthy tip, it was all they had at the moment, and with the storm clearing up, the sooner they got the search party going, the better.

"I'll remember," Chin replied shortly, his voice tinged with impatience, "Now tell me."

"Give me your word, detective," The man said, his voice steely, and unwavering. "Give me your word, and I will tell you all I know."

Chin sighed, and ran a hand through his hair, too weary to argue. Even if he had the energy, he was no position to risk losing the very information that might lead them to their friends. "Very well," he repeated, his voice steady, eyes fixed straight ahead, "I give you my word. Now tell me what you know."

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: WHEW. Okay. This is gonna get interesting. ;) Who could have possibly given them a tip about where Steve and Danny are? *grins* Okay, it's probably not that difficult to figure out. Anyway. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts - and I appreciate every single one of my readers, whether you comment, follow, and favorite or not. You all make writing worthwhile. Honestly. :) Let's get these boys off the mountain, yes?! xx_


	15. Chapter 15

_A/N: Wahooo, 2 updates in as many weeks! Aren't you proud of me? *ahem* It is coming along, slowly but surely. After this absurd amount of "hurt", I think I'm gonna be a little light on the "comfort" side, and try to wrap this up in another 5-6 chapters or so. We'll see. I've learned a lot about writing fanfiction since I started this story (and my style has changed (improved, I hope?) dramatically), so I'm kind of trying to stay in the same mindset and limits I had when I began this journey last... May?! Sheesh. It's actually more challenging than I thought it would be. Ha. (AND UGH if I wasn't so far into this story, I would totally change from past tense to present tense, because it's soooo much easier for me to write. Anyway. I guess I'll just have to cheat when I can, and slip in bits and pieces.) Alright. Enough about me. _

_However. I do have to say a HUGE thank you(!) to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and/or favorited! You guys are incredible, and I am absolutely blown away by the support and kindness y'all have shown me. Enjoy! *runs and hides*_

* * *

_The sun is crawling; moving slowly, painfully, across the horizon, the golden rays of light illuminating the damp, green mountainside with a clarity that is almost unearthly. In fact, Danny is sure it was unearthly; after all, he can see much more than he should be able to. Every drop clinging to the damp grass, every vein spangled across the green leaves that riddle the trees overhead stands out in perfect clarity from his seated position on the rocky floor of the cave. _

_Steve is still lying motionless in his lap, ashen faced, soaked in blood and sweat, and much too still for Danny's liking. Although he knows the admittance will subject him to endless teasing if it is ever spread around, there is nothing more Danny would like to hear at the moment than the sound of his partner's voice. Even the_ whomp, whomp _of helicopter blades telling him that help was on the way would be welcome, inspite of his hatred for those 'flying deathtraps'. At this point in time, any sound would be better than the lonely echoes of birds as they chatter and shriek amongst the tree branches that are reaching towards the bright, scalding sunlight._

_There are only a few things registering in Danny's mind, and he's strung it into a repetitive chant that he's muttering to himself, under his breath. Over and over. _

Sunlight, shadows, birds singing, hearts beating. Soft light, contrasts, leaves stirring, wind moaning. Hope, fear, hands clasped, breaths rasped.

_"D-Danny?"_

_At the sound of the raspy voice, Danny's thoughts are interrupted as the injured man stirs, a muffled groan emerging from between pale lips as a pair of pain-filled, weary blue eyes drift open, and come to rest on Danny's worried face with a bleary gaze._

_"__Steve?" Danny bends over his friend, a reassuring hand gripping Steve's uninjured shoulder, and he can almost see the recognition that appears in his friend's eyes at the sound of his voice, "Hey," Danny murmurs, and the relief that washes over him was is strong he can almost taste it; can almost touch it, "Hey, buddy. How're you doing?" _

_Steve blinks, and tries to speak, but no sound comes out of his mouth on his first try. He licks his lips laboriously, and Danny can see how the man is fighting to keep his eyes open; fighting to stay awake, fighting to speak. Always fighting. And the thought that something as simple as speaking is such a struggle for the man who usually seems more than human, sends a shard of renewed fear and worry straight to Danny's heart. _

_"__Hey, shh," Danny gently brushes Steve's sweat dampened hair away from his forehead, and tries his best to keep his voice steady as his partner's face contorts with pain and achingly visible exhaustion, "Hey, don't talk, babe. Save your strength."_

_But Steve shakes his head stubbornly, and swallows again, finally managing to rasp out, "D-Danny, Danny, y-you have to go." His eyes are pleading, begging, and Danny can't believe the words he's hearing, can't believe that his partner – his best friend – is begging him to leave._

_As if that was ever going to happen._

_"__No," Danny shakes his head, and grasps Steve's searching, clinging hand in his with a vice-like grip, "No, not gonna happen, babe. I'm not leaving you."_

_"__Danny, listen to me," Steve's voice is more firm now, controlled, demanding, and his eyes have a sudden desperate light in them, "You have to get out of this cave. Go on. Help is coming. You have to help them find us." _

_"__I'm not leaving you," Danny forces out the words from between clenched teeth, because if there's anything he's learned in his years of being a cop, of being a friend – hell, of being a human being – it is you don't leave anyone behind. No matter the reason, no matter who they are. _

_Steve tries to interrupt, his fingers tightening desperately on Danny's until his knuckles turn white, but Danny just shakes his head, and refuses to listen. "No. No, dammit, I'm not leaving you behind, Steven Mcgarrett, do you understand me? It's not gonna happen. Not as long as I'm alive and kicking."_

_A look of realization washes over Steve's pale features at the words; a chilling, knowing look that sends shivers down Danny's spine, because he recognizes that look – that selfless, dangerous gleam that he's seen so many times. The same gleam he saw earlier that day when Steve jumped in between him and the bullet that was the cause of all his friend's current suffering. _

_"__You won't leave," Steve's voice is a mere whisper, and Danny has to lean forward to catch the halting words, "as long as _I'm _alive, Danny." _

_Danny grips the clammy hand he's holding even tighter, and tries to ignore the heat emanating from the man's sweat-soaked skin, "That's right, Steven, and don't you forget it," Danny says firmly, his gaze as hard as steel as he stares down into his partner's bleary eyes. "Not ever, you hear me?" _

_Steve nods, a slight smile touching his lips, but the next words out of his mouth are not what Danny expects to hear; not even close. He expects to hear some sort of smartass response, some retort; he expects to witness at least one more effort on Steve's part to dissuade him, but the only words that break the silence send another wave of chills down Danny's spine, and shoot arrows of ice to his heart. _

_"__You won't die because of me, Danno. I can't let that happen. You're my partner. I have to protect you, no matter what." _

_Suddenly, Danny's hearing Steve's own words that he'd spoken a few hours earlier, to which Danny had furiously responded, _"I'm not your partner right now, Steve! I'm your friend." _And he knew, God, he knew what the idiot was getting at._

_"__Steve…" Danny's throat tightens, and all he wants to do is open his eyes, and wake up from this nightmare, because this cannot be – IS NOT – happening. "Steve, please. Don't…"_

_"__Y-you're the best friend I ever had, D-Danny," Steve's chest tightens, and he barely manages to gasp out the words, his eyelids growing heavier as a chill begins to engulf him from above, like a wave swallowing him in its watery embrace. "Go on. Go home… to… Gracie."_

_And Danny is struck speechless, watching in horror as the flush of fever that has tinted Steve's cheeks begins to fade before his very eyes, the color leaching out, like paint bleeding through paper, and his friend's eyes drift shut, closing without hesitation, without pause, and without any promise that they'll ever be opened again._

_"__Steve?" Danny barely recognizes his own voice as he gasps out the words, tongue heavy and dry in his mouth; when did it take on that tone of desperation? His mind is racing a million miles a minute, fighting the inevitability that is descending on him, screaming at him that the one person he trusts above all others is leaving him behind, and he dimly realizes that he's yelling, his throat choked and hoarse as he shakes his friend's shoulders, "Steven Mcgarrett, you don't do this to me, you hear? Don't you give up on me, you stubborn son of a bitch. I'm not leaving you, you can't leave me either! Open your eyes!"_

_There is no response to Danny's frantic pleas, except the soft _inhale, exhale _that has been Danny's only source of comfort for the past 2 hours – the only source of reassurance that his partner is still alive – and then with one last sigh, even that ceases, as the remaining air is released and Steve's blood-stained body goes limp in Danny's arms._

_Steve's chest ceases to rise and fall, and the heartbeat pulsing weakly under Danny's desperate, searching fingers flutters, and fades into silence. Danny can't see anything; his sight is blurring, weaving and shifting, and then all the light is gone from the sky, and the darkness moves in with arms wide open as a loud humming fills his ears._

_He's fading, drifting in a sea of blackness, and a familiar voice is echoing in his mind, a plea, a command. _

Hang in there. We're almost there. Please, please, please be there.

_Another wave washes over him; he's drowning, sinking, being pulled down into the comfort of oblivion, and this time, Danny doesn't resist the waves pulling him under._

_And time slows to a standstill. _

* * *

"How much longer?"

Sitting in the back of the large Army evac chopper, Chin had to shout to make himself heard above the cacophony of noises that filled his senses. Inspite of the heavy headphones situated over his ears, the noise in the cabin was overwhelmingly loud, making conversation nearly impossible, but after 15 tense minutes of listening to nothing but the sound of rotating chopper blades and the static coming over the radio, he was getting impatient enough to at least attempt a question.

From his seat, his hands making adjustments and guiding the airborne craft with capable confidence, the pilot cocked his head sideways, and shouted enquiringly over his shoulder, "What's that?"

The belt across Chin's chest dug viciously into his skin as he leaned forward, placing his arms on his knees, but he ignored it, and repeated his question, more loudly this time. "How long? What's our ETA?"

A pair of quiet gray eye's met Chin's as the pilot - a soft-spoken, grey haired man with a calm, collected attitude - risked a quick glance behind him, eyebrows raised. Chin distantly remembered that he had introduced himself as Ed Hanbury. The man's expression was alert, but undeniably reassuring and collected, and Chin felt a small measure of relief sweep over him as their eyes connected briefly; at least he wasn't stuck with some hot-head pilot out to prove himself.

"Not long," Ed directed a serious but reassuring smile at Chin, before turning his attention back to the controls. "If your info is correct, we should be there in 10 minutes or so." It was impossible for the pilot not to notice the worry lines around the native hawaiian's eyes, but the uneasy edge to the man's voice he attributed to the rough flying conditions. "Don't worry detective," he shouted, his posture and tone projecting quiet confidence, "this wind might slow us down a little bit, but we'll still get there in record time."

With a heavy sigh, Chin nodded his thanks, and sat back in the seat. All he could do was wait. Kono was seated on his right, her hands twisted nervously in her lap, eyes fixed on an undecipherable point out the window, and on his left were two medics, both fully outfitted in their gear, their shoulders rubbing amiably. One was a tall, black haired woman and the other, a short blond man whose appearance and wry sarcasm reminded Chin of Danny.

The resemblance stopped there, however. Both of the medics were loose and relaxed, as if they were merely on a sightseeing expedition, and Chin couldn't help thinking of Danny's fear and abhorrence for anything airborn. They had introduced themselves earlier, but Chin couldn't remember their names, and hadn't wanted to shout himself red in the face to get information that didn't really matter.

He had other things to focus on, and he didn't have the patience or energy to expend on pleasantries while his friends - two vital members his _ohana _\- were missing.

A gust of wind rocked the the helicopter, and Chin clutched at his seat, feeling slightly dizzy as Ed grappled with the controls, and a moment later, the chopper leveled out smoothly. Although the storm had blown out on the ground, leaving behind clear skies and blindingly bright sunshine, it was a different story in the air. They had encountered stiff headwinds almost immediately upon their departure from the Tripler helipad, and despite it's impressive bulk, the large bird had being buffeted to and fro constantly, making Chin's already unsettled stomach more than a little queasy as he clung to his seat with a white knuckled grip.

_Don't__ worry, detective. We'll still get there in record time. _The pilot's assurances repeated themselves over and over in Chin's mind. They were well-meant, he was sure, but honestly, he couldn't care less if they got there in _record_ time or not; he only wanted to get there in time to save his friends.

Letting his head fall against the back of the high, uncomfortable seat, Chin squeezed his eyes shut, and ran a hand over his eyes wearily. The pressure in the cabin was creating a dull headache behind his eyes, but his thoughts were on the missing members of the team. All he could think of was the mysterious man who had called his phone earlier that day. He didn't trust him. He didn't even know if the information was reliable. For all he knew, it could be a trap. But it was all they had to go on.

As soon as Chin had collected the willingly volunteered information from the unknown caller concerning the supposed whereabouts of his teammates, he had called the governor about the promised helicopter, and less than 20 minutes later, the two remaining members of the Five-0 team were on their way to the specified location. He could only hope they weren't too late.

From her seat next to him, Kono was watching her cousin with concern, taking in his worried features with a practiced eye, all the while doing her best to ignore the doubt that was rising in her own chest, a tidal wave of raw, unadulterated fear.

They both knew the challenges that were still to come; even the information proved to be correct - and Kono honestly doubted the likelihood of _that _\- there was still the difficult task of locating the missing men on the vast mountainside. Steve and Danny were anything but helpless, but any number of things could happen in a thunderstorm. What if the information was correct, but the two men had moved on, in an attempt to make it off the mountain? They could be anywhere.

If they were still alive.

With a slight shake of her head, Kono pushed the thought away, and leaned forward, placing a steady hand on her cousin's arm, "Cuz, listen to me. They'll be okay. We'll find them, alright?" She forced herself to speak cheerfully, and at the sound of her voice, Chin turned his dark eyes towards her. His normally zen-like, stoic expression was tight and strained, and she could see the worry in his eyes; worry he was clearly trying to hide from her.

"Yeah," his lips twisted upwards, and he patted her hand appreciatively, before turning his gaze towards the broad terrain that was disappearing behind them as the helicopter continued its steady flight towards their destination. They were almost there... almost there. His thoughts were speeding ahead of him, as if he could send them out to his friends, wherever they were.

_Hang in there. We're almost there. Please, please, please be there._

* * *

"Steve!"

With a desperate exclamation, Danny sat bolt-upright, and gazed around dazedly, an involuntary groan emerging from his lips as the headache pounding behind his eyes returned with vengeance at the sudden movement. The bright sunlight was still illuminating the floor of the cave, but it had faded slightly, and Danny blinked rapidly, his vision blurring, as a wave of overwhelmingly dizziness washed over him. He raised a heavy arm, and scrubbed his hand over his face, sucking in deep breaths. His heart was racing as if he'd just run a marathon, and the horrible image that had jolted him out of the peaceful oblivion he had unknowingly sunk into was hanging before his eyes.

_His friend's eyes drift shut, closing without hesitation, without pause, and without any promise that they'll ever be opened again._

Willing his blurry eyes to focus, Danny directed his gaze towards the still-motionless form sprawled across his lap. _Steve. _The man was still unconscious, his head pillowed in Danny's lap, but as the clouds dissipated from his eyesight, Danny could see that the Ex-SEAL's skin was ashen - almost translucent - and it was evident the wound was bleeding again, as the makeshift bandage wrapped around Steve's shoulder was stained with crimson.

"_Dammit_," Danny cursed under his breath, as he placed a trembling finger under Steve's throat, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, caught between hope and fear.

_Steve's chest ceases to rise and fall, and the heartbeat pulsing weakly under Danny's desperate, searching fingers flutters, and fades into silence. _

For one, horrible moment, Danny thought that his dream had actually happened; that he had actually sat and watched his best friend die in his lap, that he had watched the color, the breath, the _life _fade from his friend's face. Time seemed to pause around him, his breathing loud and frantic in his own ears as he repositioned his fingers on the man's throat, but still, he felt nothing. _Nothing. _

But then, there it was: a weak rhythm, slow and sluggish, but steady, and all Danny cared about was that it was _there_.

"God, Steve," Danny muttered, releasing the breath he didn't even know he'd been holding with a half-sob, and slumping back against the side of the cave, he welcomed the relief that washed over him, so powerful it took his breath away. "Don't you dare. Don't you _dare _die on me now, Steven."

_He's alive. _Heart still pounding in his chest, Danny's couldn't bring himself to pull his gaze away from his partner's face, so he took in every detail with concerned scrutiny. _He's alive. _But he knew the pulse pounding under his fingertips was far too weak. He felt the heat soaking through his damp clothes, and the harsh, raspy _inhale, exhale _of his partner's breathing cut into the thick air as sharply as the blade of a knife, merging with his.

Like anyone, Danny had experienced his fair share of bad dreams; dreams of losing Grace to Rachel in a lawsuit, dreams of him drowning, or dying in a helicopter crash. Dreams that he had always been able to get over fairly quickly, due to the undeniable facts that, a) he knew Rachel would never do that to him, b) he was a good swimmer, and, c) he never went up into a helicopter unless he absolutely _had _to.

But never before had he dreamed of Steve dying and he'd never had a dream grip him so entirely, and unsettle him so thoroughly. And the reason it shook him to the extent that it did was the fact that he knew if help didn't come soon, his dream would become reality.

No matter what, _that_ reality was not something Danny was willing to accept.

"Hang in there, bud," Danny whispered tiredly, smoothing the dark, sweat-soaked hair away from his partner's forehead. He knew he should keep up the empty litany of encouragement, just in case Steve could hear him - just in case his partner was hanging onto his words of hope, even as Danny was clinging to the uneven rhythm of Steve's breathing - but didn't have the energy, and, "C'mon, Steve, hang in there. Help is coming. Help is coming," was all he could think of to say. So he did. Over and over again.

The words echoed around the cave, ringing in the damp air, but they were hollow; empty. Meaningless. He knew Chin and Kono wouldn't abandon them, but by the time they were found, it might be too late.

The sounds of the jungle were becoming familiar to him, and the effect was almost soothing. The chirping of crickets, the whistle of wind in the trees, the sharp, jubilant warbling of birds as they flitted from branch to branch. But as Danny listened, he heard another unfamiliar sound in the background, a whirring, pulsing echo that he couldn't place.

Danny frowned in confusion as the "thwump, thwump"ing noise grew closer. It definitely didn't belong among the sedentary and whispering sounds of the jungle. It was coming from outside the rock wall that had become the boundaries of his world, but there was something familiar about the sound, and it was steadily growing louder. "What the-" He stopped, breathless, as it suddenly it hit him, electrifying him from the inside out, as one word flashed through his mind.

_Helicopter. _

Help for him. Help for _Steve. _A surge of adrenaline ripped through his veins, tingling like ice water, and the sudden burst of energy rendered the aches and pains of his abused body silent. Their rescue was there, and as long as he was breathing, nothing would stop him now. Now when they were so close. _So very _close.

_You gotta get outside, Danny. _

Gritting his his teeth, Danny wrapped his fingers into his partner's shirt, and, grunting with the effort, he heaved the tall man sideways as gently as he possibly could, and rolled the former SEAL sideways until he was lying on his uninjured side; Steve's eyes were still closed, his face lax and empty in the light from the dying sun. Every movement sent spikes of pain through Danny's head, neck and gimpy knee, but moving carefully, he inched out from under his partner's head and shoulders, and fingers gripping the cool rock wall, managed to pull himself to a standing position.

His vision swam, tunneling into a long, black hallway, and for a moment he thought he would black out, right there. It would've been so easy, but he couldn't fail his partner. Not when they were close - so, so close - and taking deep breaths, he stood still until his vision cleared, and the nausea and pain that had washed over him faded into the background. It was still there, but at least it was manageable.

The familiar sounds of the chopper blades were directly overhead now, and Danny knew he had to move, and fast. With one last, reluctant glance at his unconscious partner, Danny lurched forward, using the rocky wall of the cave to keep himself upright as he left the cool shadows behind and emerged into the glistening light of the rain-drenched afternoon. His knee was sending red-hot warnings to his brain, but he pushed forward doggedly, limping towards the closest clearing.

"Hey!" Danny raised his arms, and waved desperately as the large, grey helicopter finally came into view, the sound increasing until all Danny could hear was the overwhelming "thump, thump" of the blades. "Hey, down here!" The damp leaves were being whipped into a whirling cyclone of greenery, and Danny had to squint through the flying vegetation to see if he had been spotted. His hair whipped around his head in every direction, while his shirt flapped and twisted on his body in the wind.

"Danny!"

His vision was swimming, the throbbing behind his eyes was building to a terrible, glorious crescendo, and it was all he could do to focus on the huge bird as it hovered above him, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he'd actually heard someone call his name. The chopper was going to pass over him; he was sure of it. It would turn around, and fly away, or maybe he would wake up like before, to find himself back in the cave with his partner dying in his lap.

_Maybe I'm going crazy, _he thought dizzily, raising a grimy hand to block the sunlight that was glinting off the grey metal of the Army 'copter. _Maybe this is all a dream. _

But then, just when he had resigned himself to spending the night on the mountain, a familiar face appeared out the open side of the helicopter, and Danny's knees nearly gave out at the unmistakable, joyous relief that flashed across the beaming face of Kono Kalakaua as her eyes fell on him.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: You didn't honestly think I would kill off Steve, did you? Oh, I hadn't mentioned that this is NOT a deathfic? No? Um, oops. Sorry about that. [clears throat] Maybe not. I like to scare people just as much as the next whumper, errr, writer. ;) But truthfully, I couldn't bear the thought of killing Steve or Danny. Just... couldn't do it. Nope. No deathfic here. _

_And whoa, just saw how many words this chapter ended up having, sheesh. Well, my muse is back, so that's good news. :D I'll try to have another post up before too long; my hope is to post at least twice a month until this is done. Maybe I'll get this "little" story concluded in a year, eh? ;) *grins wryly* _

_For goodness sake, let's get these poor boys off the mountain! I'm starting to feel quite mean for dragging this out for so long - for both my readers, and these beloved characters. :P_

_As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts. :D Thanks for reading! You guys rock my world. xx_


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: Just a quick shout-out to all those who have read, followed, favorite and/or reviewed... thank you, so, so much. Thank you a milion times for all the (incredible) support and feedback on this story. I can't thank you all enough. Just a warning, this chapter might be a tad bit confusing, since I'm kind of jumping around a little bit, and playing with the times. Hopefully it's not too mixed up. :)_

_Oh, and since I can't seem to remember to put disclaimers in my chapters, this is just a reminder for the heck of it: _

_**I don't own H50, or any of the characters and the only thing I get for writing this is the satisfaction of 'spending time' with my favorite characters. The only thing I own is the plot, and any characters you don't recognize from the show.**_

* * *

Danny hated helicopters. He couldn't remember the exact timing of his discovered dislike for the contraptions, but it had definitely started sometime around his 10th birthday when he had seen a report on the news of a fiery crash that had killed a young, newlywed couple, and the pilot. They had been sightseeing, barely more than teenagers, and crazy in love. The cause of the crash was never discovered, and all the public knew was that it _had _happened, 3 people had died, and that was that. Three candles snuffed out before their time. Three people that would've still been alive if they'd stayed the hell away from all things airborn.

It didn't matter to Danny that, statistically speaking, helicopters were safer to travel in than cars were. It didn't matter than he almost _never _had to go up in one, and when he did, he made sure to make his displeasure known. It didn't matter that the only times he'd ever actually been in a helicopter had been when his crazy, I-can-do-anything partner had been in the pilot seat; and inspite of the former SEAL's unorthodox and downright crazy methods, he was the one Danny trusted most when it came to flying.

Not that he would ever admit it, of course.

But sometimes, even Danny couldn't ignore the fact that the steel death traps did come in handy in certain desperate situations. Situations involving Navy SEALs, spontaneous hiking trips, and damn snipers, perhaps. And their current one was a desperate situation if he had ever seen one...

* * *

_"Danny!" Through a green-tinged, gray haze of exhaustion and whirling vegetation, Danny hears Chin calling out his name, and an instant later, the native Hawaiian is beside him, a steadying hand placed on his arm as Danny reels dizzily, his eyes moving from the hovering chopper and focusing sluggishly on his friend's face. "Danny, are you alright?"_

_"Chin," Danny's voice is raspy, hoarse, his throat dry and cracking, but he grips the man's steady arm, barely aware of the small group of the people approaching behind his teammate, and gazes into the older man's dark eyes desperately, "Chin, y-you have to get Steve. He's over there, in a cave, he's been shot." He points in the general direction of the cave, a__nd then, suddenly, Kono is before him, her eyes wide with panic and concern, and Chin is moving off in the specified direction at a run, one of the two people - medics, Danny realizes - following him as Chin waves them over, while the other one moves towards Danny._

_"Go," Danny waves the blond man away, his movements jerky with impatience and fatigue, "Go, go! I'm fine. Get Steve."_

_"Danny?" It's Kono again, and he turns back to her, feels her hands on his arm as he sways, sees the thousands of questions in her eyes; unspoken questions that are quickly overwhelmed by a mixture of relief and worry. "Danny..."_

* * *

"Danny?"

The sound of his name, spoken loudly enough to be heard above the whir of the chopper's rotor blades, pulled him away from his exhaustion-induced muddled thoughts, and forcing his heavy eyes open, he turned his head and a pair of warm, worried brown eyes met his tired, blue ones.

"Danny, are you doing okay?" Kono asked worriedly, eying the lines of pain around the blond man's eyes and noticing the bleary, dazed expression in the man's usually sharp gaze. "You alright?" Everything about Danny's appearance - from the clotting wound on his temple to the slow, sluggish pupil reactions to the pained winces whenever anyone spoke louder than a whisper - gave ample signs of a concussion, and the noise from the helicopter was no doubt only serving to increase his evident discomfort.

_Are you okay? _It was a trick question, Danny thought. He was undeniably _better_, now that he was off that cursed mountain, in the back of a rescue chopper with a steady flow of saline and mild pain-relief being delivered via an IV attached in the crook of his arm. Hell, he was a _hundred_ times better than he had been 20 minutes before, but the fact that there were two, silent medics bending over his unconscious partner in the bottom of an Army Evac helicopter meant he was far from 'okay'. Silent medics were never reassuring signs.

He could feel Kono's gaze on him, however, watching him, sharp eyes taking in every wince, every expression, and he knew she would settle for nothing less than a solid answer, so he gave a short nod, fighting back a groan as his stiff neck protested the small movement, and sent a dozen different red-hot warnings to his brain. "I'm fine," he managed to grind out from between gritted teeth, "Thanks, Kono."

Catching the slight tightening of his lips at the movement, and taking note of the lines of pain etched onto his face, Kono narrowed her eyes, but as she opened her mouth to protest, she caught the steely glint in the native Jersey's gaze, and, with a sigh, she nodded silently, and leaned back in her seat again. She ran a hand through her windblown hair, and letting her eyes drift out the window, concentrated on relaxing her stiff shoulders and neck, allowing the choking worry and adrenaline to bleed out of her body as the chopper continued its steady flight towards Tripler.

Relieved that Kono had dropped the subject inspite of her evident displeasure and concern at his very Steve-like "I'm fine" statement, Danny had turned his rapt gaze towards his partner, and was staring worriedly at the backs of the two red-clad medics who were bending over his friend with single minded concentration, effectively blocking his view of the unconscious man.

Danny sighed heavily, and chewed nervously on his lower lip. It wasn't the first time that day that he had wished he had superpowers; x-ray vision would come in real handy about now. God knew the two medics were only doing their job, and he had every confidence in their abilities, but at the moment he couldn't help resenting the fact that they were the only thing keeping him from his friend's side.

* * *

_"Detective? My name is Alice, and this is my partner, Thomas." The black haired woman says, gesturing briefly towards the blond medic currently hovering over Danny's partner, his hands swift, but gentle as he takes Steve's vitals, "We're going to get Commander Mcgarrett hoisted up first, and then we'll get you situated, alright?" She smiles reassuringly up at Danny as he hovers nearby, watching the medics' swift, precise work as they apply additional bandages to the blood soaked wound, insert an IV in a vein, and fix an oxygen mask over the man's ashen lips. _

_Danny frowns, then nods, reluctant to let his partner out of his sight for a split second, but after a few nerve-wracking moments dangling in the air, attached to the chopper by a thin harness and line, he follows Steve up and is being pulled safely into the cabin of the chopper, and gently guided towards a seat. _

_"I want to sit with Steve," he demands stubbornly, ignoring the signals his trembling legs, and swimming vision are sending him, ignoring the death grip he has on the medic's arm, ignoring everything except the still form of his partner and his own need to make sure the man is going to be okay, because anything else is unacceptable. _

_"Detective, you need to sit down, and avoid putting more strain on your knee," Alice says firmly, her tone gentle, but there is absolutely no room for refusal, and Danny finally agrees after Chin volunteers to sit with their unconscious friend. _

_"Sit down, Danny," Chin situates himself carefully on the floor, and directs a reassuringly calm smile in Danny's direction, "Don't worry, brah. I'll be right here."_

* * *

As promised, Chin hadn't moved since the chopper had turned, tilting in the air and heading back towards Tripler with all possible speed, and he was still sitting near Steve's head, one hand placed comforting on the unconscious man's good shoulder. Feeling the heavy gaze of his friends on him, he raised his eyes above the blond medic's head, and smiled tightly at the two worried observers, but his lips taut were with tension and worry, and the lines around his eyes attested the grave condition their friend was in.

Danny couldn't help noticing the heavy, palpable worry in the dark eyes as Chin dropped his gaze downward again, and Danny continued to stare worriedly at the medics' backs, wishing they would move over so he could see his friend, wishing they would turn around and tell them something; anything. A moment later, however, his unspoken request was granted as Alice shifted to her left. Danny didn't even notice the tilting chopper as the pilot carefully maneuvered towards their rapidly approaching destination; his eyes were immediately drawn to his partner, taking in every detail with wide-eyed concern.

Steve's face was barely visible underneath the oxygen mask situated over his nose and mouth, but Danny could see the slight condensation that appeared and disappeared in time with Steve's slow, shallow breaths, ghosts of air escaping and being recaptured. Repetitive. Constant. Not strong enough, not steady enough, but there.

He moved on. There was an IV attached in the crook of Steve's right arm, leading to a clear bag of saline that was hanging on a hook above him, and a thin sheen of sweat covered every inch of exposed skin, highlighting the angles and sharp outline of the man's chalk-like features. The medics had cut the blood-soaked shirt off to access the wound, and the dark purple and blue bruises beginning to form across Steve's chest - compliments of his uncoordinated tumble down the side of the cliff, and affectionate embrace with the obliging tree - were evident even from where Danny was sitting.

Blowing out a shaky breath to force down the rising nausea, Danny resolutely ignored the piercing, dagger-like glance Kono had turned on him, and leaned forward slightly, gripping his seat so tightly his knuckles turned white, "C'mon, Steve," he muttered under his breath, eyes still fixed steadily on the unconscious man's face as Alice attached a blood pressure cuff to Steve's arm, and began pumping the bag full of air.

Abstractly, he noticed that the dark, coal-like smudges under Steve's eyes almost matched the masterpiece of bruises spreading across his chest, and there were slight tremors running through the man's body, like a whisper of wind trailing across a leaf; barely perceptible, feather-light, but Danny's throat tightened at the implications. Mcgarrett was strong, but his body was showing severe signs of the trauma he had endured, he was weak from blood loss, and the likelihood of an infection was looking all the more probable, if Danny was reading the signs correctly.

On the mountain, the ex-SEAL had seemed invulnerable, unbreakable, more than human, even after he'd passed out from blood loss and strain. But here, as the bright afternoon light fell across his face in complimenting shadows and highlights, he looked so, so small. So weak, and fragile amongst the countless wires and tubes sprouting from his arms and chest, surrounded by medical equipment and oblivious to the worried gazes being exchanged over his head.

Sighing, Danny ran a hand through his hair, and turned towards Kono, the typical "how long" question on his lips, but before he could utter a single word, the chopper tilted unexpectedly to the right, and he wrenched his gaze towards the open side of the helicopter, expecting to see a line of trees rushing towards them as they hurtled towards the ground, but instead, tall, imposing buildings met his surprised eyes, and the Tripler Medical Hospital came into view. A moment later, the helicopter was settling on the helipad with a gentle thump, and the overwhelming noise from the rotor blades began to diminish almost immediately.

As the cabin grew quieter, Danny pulled the heavy headphones off his ears, and his hearing came back in a burst of noise so harsh it brought tears to his eyes, but he blinked it resolutely away as the medics instantly began preparing Steve for the short trip to the ER. Before he knew it, the heavy door was sliding open, and Steve was being lifted out by the awaiting medical personnel, and, before anyone could stop him, Danny had unhooked his seatbelt, ripped out his IV with a sharp jerk, and was scrambling after his partner.

He heard the warning in Kono's voice as she shouted his name, telling him to wait, to let the nurses and doctors take care of Steve, but, for once, he ignored her, and reached Steve's side just as the gurney was about to be rushed off to the ER, Chin and Kono close behind.

"Detective, we need to get him to the ER, alright?" Having seen the Jersey cop's unsteady flight from the chopper, Thomas had made his way towards him, and was at his side in an instant, laying a supportive hand on Danny's arm as he swayed dizzily, "Detective, they need to go now, and we need to get you checked out."

"I'm going with him," Danny stated firmly, his voice sharpening perceptibly as Thomas opened his mouth to object, "No, no, shut up and listen to me. Did you just watch your partner bleed out and almost die on a mountain for 4 hours? Huh?" Danny raised his eyes to the medic's face for an instant, the iron-hard glint in his gaze silencing the rising objections immediately, as he continued, "No, you didn't. I _did._ I'm his partner, alright, and I'm going with him."

The harsh afternoon sun was ending spikes of pain through his head, he could feel blood dripping down his arm from the roughly disconnected IV, and he only dimly registered the fact that Chin was hovering behind him, a worried frown on his face, but he didn't care, he didn't care. He had been by his friend's side the entire time since Steve had been shot until they'd been separated in the chopper, and he wasn't about to let these damn nurses usher his best friend off without him.

"Danny," Leaning forward, Chin touched the blond man's arm gently, and spoke softly, reassuringly, "Danny, come on, let them take him. They'll take good care of him, alright? You need to get checked out. Do you think Steve would want you endangering yourself for him? C'mon, brah. They have to get him into surgery right now."

Danny turned towards the sound of Chin's voice, swaying irresolutely, his vision swirling as he struggled to focus in the bright sunlight.

"Danny, hey, come on," Chin urged gently, eying the man's glazed eyes and noticing the harsh, rapid breathing with concern as he tugged Danny away from the gurney, one hand tucked firmly in the crook of his arm, "C'mon, let's get you checked out alright?"

As soon as Danny was out of the way, the nurses were maneuvering the gurney away, and Steve was whisked off, surrounded by the team of medics. Danny watched them disappear from sight before turning glazed eyes to the Hawaiian's worry creased face. Every ache and abrasion that he'd been ignoring for hours returned with a vengeance, and it was all he could do to stand upright; his head throbbed in time with the rapid beating of his heart, and he felt disconnected, like he was floating above the earth, looking down at himself.

"Chin," he rasped dryly, reaching out a trembling hand in the older man's general direction, "Chin, I-I..." His vision tunneled, and the painfully bright light merged and was swallowed in an ocean of comforting blackness as he took a single, faltering step forward and slumped bonelessly into his teammate's awaiting arms.

Grey light flickered about the edges of his vision, hovering like an impending tidal wave, and he dimly registered the sensation of being lifted by strong hands, and settled on something soft, and comforting. "It's alright, brah," a soft, feminine voice murmured soothingly, a cool hand brushing his hair off his forehead, "It's alright, just relax. The doctors are taking care of Steve, alright? He's okay."

And with an exhausted sigh, Danny finally released his tenacious grip on consciousness, and sank gladly into the welcoming darkness.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: I probably re-wrote this chapter about 10 times, and I'm still not 100% happy with it, but whatever. ;) Haha. As usual, I'd love to hear your thoughts, and I appreciate every single one of my readers. Seriously, you guys ROCK. _

_Also, to those of you who asked me not to go TOO light on the comfort side, don't worry. I actually prefer the "comfort" more than the "hurt" (no, I_ don't _like hurting my darling characters, although you'd never know it from this story, oops), so there'll be a bit of recovery time as they solve this case. ;) I'm a little unsure about how to actually go about solving this actually, since this is my first time writing a "crime / detective" story, but I'll do the best I can. Recommendations for improvements are always welcome, and since this is (always) un-beta'd, please feel free to point out spelling / grammatical errors. :) Thanks for reading, guys! xox_


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: Once again, RL is being a pain, and I've been so ridiculously busy, writing has been pushed aside to make room for other things, but here I am. ;) And now that Season 5 is over, I can focus on getting this story finished up. And, to be honest, I'm relieved S5 is over. We didn't get nearly enough "ohana" moments, or bromance, and it seemed like Steve and Danny were hardly ever in the same room together! Grr. [sigh] But since we aren't getting much bromance from the show, I've turned to fanfiction; both writing, and reading it. And since we finally know that Season Six is a go (HAPPYHAPPYHAPPY), I can actually focus on writing. Ha. _

_Anyway. Here's Chapter 17. As always, I would love to hear your thoughts, and thanks to all those who have reviewed! I appreciate the input more than you'll ever know, and although I haven't been able to answer each one individually, please know that I read each and every one, and love hearing from you guys. _

**_Disclaimer: I still don't own any part of Hawaii Five-0. _**_(Believe me,__ if I did, there would be much more bromance. And whump. *wink*)_

* * *

_Twenty minutes._ It had only been twenty, short minutes. The hands on the clock had gone around 20 times, the smallest hand had ticked off one thousand, two hundred seconds, every 'tick, tick, tick' seeming to echo off the whitewashed walls and hard floors of the Tripler Medical Center waiting room with mocking sluggishness.

Chin was almost convinced the clock hanging on the wall had been tampered with, as if someone had messed with the small black hands that were inching their way around the numbered face as a dirty joke, slowing them down - maybe even completely stalling them once in a while. It was unlikely, but at the rate time was going, it felt as though he'd been sitting in the uncomfortable, painfully orange colored chair he was currently slouched in for hours; days, even.

There was a slight rustle to his right as Kono shifted uncomfortably from her perched position on the edge of yet another one of the low-backed, offensively colored seats, muttering, "Damn these chairs," under her breath. "You'd think they would have something a little more comfortable in a hospital waiting room. There's no reason to torture the body and the mind at the same time." She kept her tone soft to avoid disturbing the other people in the room, but the tension lying beneath the surface was almost palpable, like a shark waiting to attack her vulnerabilities at the slightest provocation.

Chin sighed heavily, cursing himself silently under his breath for not noticing the considerable anxiety and fear his cousin was so tenaciously trying to hide from him. She was fumbling nervously with the zipper on her windbreaker, the lines of her lithe form rigidly outlined through the black jacket as she stared straight ahead, her face a mask of combined apprehension and impatience.

Leaning forward and planting his elbows on his knees, he threw periodic glances at Kono's troubled face before deciding to take action. "You know," he murmured, still shooting little, inconspicuous glances in his cousin's direction, "as often as Steve is here, he should be able to put in a personal request for more comfortable furniture, for our sakes, at least." Chin bobbed his head towards the row of empty chairs across the room, steepling his fingers, "He's practically an honorary member of the hospital's favorite patient club. That's gotta come with benefits."

Kono huffed out a shaky breath, and raised an eyebrow at the obviously forced attempt at humor, but the smile Chin was obviously waiting for wasn't forthcoming, and she settled for a nod, bobbing her head shortly. "Yeah," she swallowed thickly, turned her attention back to the ominous clock, once again staring unseeingly at hands as they inched their way around the face and whispered, "I guess so."

Chin swallowed a sigh, and glanced down at his interlaced fingers thoughtfully. This wasn't the young girl he had played with as a child; this wasn't the gangly teenager who had followed him around, who endlessly tried to steal his beers, who laughed at every joke, no matter how bad it was. She was a woman now, who had, eventually followed in his footsteps so closely, she became a member of the very same Five-0 team whose members Chin now considered to be a part of the family - an extended version of his ohana. This tense, fidgety young woman sitting beside him was as tough as nails. She had grown up, but, combined with the ever-present dangers of the job, came the harsh blow of reality that they now found themselves faced with.

After all, you aren't guaranteed forever when you love someone. The only thing you can be certain of is the pain that inevitably comes when you lose them.

"Hey," Chin leaned forward and laid a gentle hand on his cousin's arm, noting the effort she was obviously making to keeping her hands from shaking, "Hey," he said softly but firmly, squeezing her arm until she finally raised her head to meet his gaze, "They're fighters, Kono. Both of them. You know nothing as senseless as this can keep either one of them down for very long. They'll pull through this. You hear me?"

Gazing into her cousin's steely eyes, Kono nodded slightly, knowing that dwelling on the negative would only do more harm than good. It was true. If anyone could survive what the two men had been through, it would be them. Not only were they physically strong, they were also two of the most stubborn people she had ever met. Even Danny, who constantly bitched about Steve's SuperSEAL ways, was one of the strongest men Kono had ever met, both physically and mentally.

Her hands were still trembling slightly, and, clasping them together in front of her with a grip so tight it was almost painful, she directed a grateful glance towards her cousin and smiled softly, evidently grateful for Chin's mini pep talk. "I know," she replied quietly, mirroring Chin's soft tones, "I know. I just hate waiting to hear anything, you know?" Chin's eyes were solemn, and there were wrinkles of concern around his lips and etched into his forehead, but she garnered strength and reassurance from the steadiness of his gaze.

"I know, cuz," Chin nodded in agreement, watching with pride and amazement as renewed confidence shone in her eyes, her face hardening with renewed determination; a determination Chin understood and shared. The strain and worry of the previous hours was enough to unsettle even those most accustomed to the darkest side of their line of work, but Chin knew how tough his cousin was - she had proved her capability and worth everyday since she had joined the Five-0 team, and he could see that the pain, the fear, the worry, the anger was already morphing into a iron-fist of resolve to seek out those responsible for this situation.

Chin was more than convinced that she was alright now, and with a final squeeze, he released her arm, and glanced hopefully at the clock again. "Danny's doctor should be out before long. He might be able to tell us something about Steve while he's at it," he murmured, more talking to himself than anyone else as he calculated the approximate time it would take them to get the Jersey detective settled in a room, barring any unknown injuries or complications. While Chin was far from a professional when it came to medicine, he knew the drill, knew the procedures, and from what he had overheard, Danny's injuries were relatively minor.

Nodding, Kono leaned backwards again, and forced herself to allow her stiff shoulders a respite from the ramrod straight position she'd been sitting in, but the more she tried to relax, the more active her mind came, jumping from one worst case scenario to another with dizzying speed, until, finally, she realized that she had to do _something _\- anything - to take her mind off the current situation or she would drive herself crazy.

"I'm going to see if they make a decent cup of coffee in this place," she murmured at length, pushing herself to her feet with one, fluid motion, and then, taking in her cousin's careworn pose with a long, piercing gaze, she hesitated and asked, "You want me to get you anything? Coffee?"

Truthfully, the thought of drinking _anything_ made his stomach churn, but Chin needed something to do with his hands - and his mind - while he waited, and drinking coffee was as good an escape as any likely to be found in this world of concrete walls and blaring alarms, so he nodded. "Thanks. Cream, no sugar," and then, remembering the information they had gathered earlier from the scattered clues left behind, he added as an afterthought, "And why don't you call Fong while you're at it? See if he's got anything on those fingerprints?"

They hadn't heard anything yet from the jovial forensic scientist, but Chin knew how hard it was to sit and do _nothing_, and hopefully the task would distract Kono from the gravity of the current situation. He had already contacted the governor, who had promptly issued a gag order against the local news reporters that were hovering in the hallways like vultures. Hopefully, keeping any and all information concerning the case out of the public eye would give them an upper hand if the people responsible were looking for any news about Steve or Danny.

After all, you couldn't shoot the head of the Five-0 task force and his partner without somebody hearing _something_.

"Sure," With a swift nod of her head, Kono directed a small, knowing smile at her cousin. She was fully aware of what he was up to, but the chance to get some fresh air was too tempting to pass up. "I'm on it." And with that, Kono headed off in the direction of the cafeteria, her leather shoes squeaking softly on the hard floor as she moved purposefully from the room, already digging her cellphone out of her pocket as she walked.

Chin watched her absently until she disappeared from view, then blew out a heavy breath and leaned backwards again, his eyes mindlessly tracing the spiderweb cracks that were fanning out across the white linoleum floor. Hospitals had never been a place of discomfort for him. He hadn't even been able to entirely place the typical stereotype of dislike upon any medical center. How could he, when they were so closely connected to the presence of Malia? He had gotten used to the smell of disinfectant, the sound of steadily beeping machines, the pallid, anxious throng of faces that endlessly filled the echoing halls and he had long since resigned himself to repeated visits to the Emergency Room due to small injuries that were results of the less than pleasant reality of his current job.

No, he didn't mind hospitals. Waiting rooms, however, were a completely different thing.

He still couldn't completely grasp the events of the day that had landed him _here, _how the unexpected brutality of the storm, the photograph of Danny, and the mysterious phone call had led up to this moment; waiting for news on the well-being of two of his teammates. He could still see Danny's face, pale and streaked with dirt, his blood stained hands and clothes, the pain and weariness in the man's wide eyes, the combined fear and hope whenever the blond man's thoughts were on his partner. And Danny's thoughts had clearly been on nothing else, even up to the point of his collapse.

_"You'll have to wait here, detectives," _the doctor had said hurriedly, as Chin and Kono trailed alongside the gurney that was bearing the unconscious man through the sterile hallways towards the ER, _"Detective Williams will receive the best possible care, I assure you. I'm__ optimistic, and I expect a hasty recovery, barring any complications. Head injuries are tricky things, but the fact that he was lucid and conscious up until a few moments ago is encouraging."_

Both Chin and Kono had latched onto that bit of news, clinging to it like a drowning man clings to a piece of driftwood. It wasn't much, but it was something, and at the moment, it was all they had.

Chin's enquiry about Steve had been met with less confidence, however, and they had been left in the hallway with the words, _"They're taking him directly to surgery. I'm sorry, that's all I know," _repeating in their minds, over and over like the gong of a bell, jarring, repetitive and exasperatingly lacking in anything that would reassure them, or answer their many questions.

_Steve. That's all I know. Blood loss. Hypovolemic shock. Low blood pressure. Irregular heartbeat. Collapsed veins. Surgery. Steve. _

Chin couldn't remember the last time he had been so unnerved by the sight of an unconscious, blood-soaked man. Gunshot wounds and any number of other injuries had become a part of his daily scenery, but the fact that the man in question was the one and only Lieutenant Commander Steve Mcgarrett unnerved him more than he would've liked to admit. Steve avoided potentially deadly situations like a stray dog avoids a meat shop, but somehow - by some measure of good luck - the SEAL always managed to walk away relatively unscathed, with a few bumps and bruises as a testament to either his foolishness, or his impressive skill and judgement.

Until now. But even Chin had to admit that nothing about the former SEAL's current situation had been Steve's fault, no matter how you looked at it. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in hopes of alleviated the stress headache that was battering him, Chin grunted humorlessly. _SuperSEAL Steve Mcgarrett indeed. _

It went without saying that their fearless leader took chances - even unnecessary chances at times. Everyday, he was in danger, and the times the man had gotten shot, stabbed, blown up or injured in some way were more numerous than the fingers on Chin's hand, and every single damn time he had bounced back with his typical tenacious vivacity, breaking out of prison and hospitals and ambulances as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world to do. By all accounts, the man should be dead ten times over, but he always managed to survive with - what looked like - very little effort on his part.

The chances of the more-than-human man getting shot while on a _hiking trip_, however, were so unlikely Chin almost couldn't believe it had actually happened; it seemed to be more of a twisted joke than the ice cold reality Chin knew it was.

_Maybe Steve really is a trouble magnet, _Chin thought wryly, sighing as he glanced at the clock and noting how little the minute hand had moved since the last time he had checked with increasing impatience. _He's not called SuperSEAL for nothing, I guess__. _

15 more minutes dragged by, and finally, just when Chin was determining to search out a nurse, a doctor - someone who knew _anything_ \- and scare some answers out of them, his troubled thoughts were cut off sharply by the entrance of the doctor Chin had briefly spoken to nearly 45 minutes before. The man's dark hair was speckled with gray and his eyes were tired but he smiled encouragingly, tucking his hands into the neat white coat that covered his bright scrubs as he strode towards Chin, covering the distance between them with long footsteps.

"Lieutenant Kelly?" The doctor asked questioningly, his eyes coming to rest on the native Hawaiian, noting the instantaneous apprehension that washed over the younger man's face as Chin pushed himself to his feet, and moved forward to meet the doctor. At Chin's hurried nod of confirmation, the doctor cleared this throat, and motioned for Chin to follow him out into the hallway. "I'm Doctor Kekoa," the gray-haired man said, as soon as the two men had stepped out of the waiting room, the harsh light illuminating the lines on both faces with vivid clarity, "I spoke to you before about Detective William's condition?"

Chin nodded again, searching the doctor's face anxiously for any tell-tale signs of which way the scale was going to tip but the man's face was inscrutable, and without further ado, Doctor Kekoa continued, his shoulders slumping forward slightly into a stance of weary relaxation, his face weary but alert, "Detective Williams is awake, and is asking to see you. I advised him to wait a while, however," sighing, the doctor ran a heavy hand through his hair, his brow furrowing slightly as he shook his head ruefully, "he is quite persistent, and threatened to check himself out this very moment if I didn't bring you."

Exhaling shakily, the tenseness in Chin's shoulders lessened somewhat, relief sweeping over his face in a tidal wave at the good report. It sounded like Danny was back to his usual, charming self, and that alone was more encouraging than anything the doctor could say. "Sounds like Danny," he murmured under his breath, chuckling wryly at the harried, exasperated expression still evident on the doctor's face; an expression Chin recognized. Danny Williams was one of the kindest men Chin had ever known, but he was intolerant, stubborn and it was nearly impossible to get him to do anything he didn't want to, or dissuade him from doing something he was determined to do.

_Only Danny. _

Still smiling slightly, Chin returned his attention to Doctor Kekoa, his expression sobering as he said gratefully, "Thanks, doc. I appreciate you coming to tell me. How is he doing?" Even as he asked, he knew that he might very well be refused any details, due to the strict doctor-patient confidentiality agreement that was always studiously followed, but it was worth a shot.

With a wry cough, the doctor dropped his eyes to the floor briefly, and raised them rather sheepishly to Chin's face before replying to the hesitant question, "Normally, I'm not allowed to discuss a patient's condition with anyone other than family," he said, raising a hand to forestall the protest he knew was coming as Chin opened his mouth to interrupt, "however," a slight smile hovered around the corners of his mouth, "_however_, Detective Williams said you would ask, and gave me permission to fill you in on his condition."

His smile widening at the surprise that swept over Chin's face, Doctor Kekoa continued, keeping his explanation short and to the point. "He's dehydrated, has a mild concussion, a nasty head wound, caused by what appears to be a gunshot graze, and a torn ligament in his right knee. He's very lucky to have walked away with only a _mild _concussion, but he is going to have quite a headache for a few days, and I expect him to _rest_," the doctor said, raising an eyebrow meaningfully, "for _at least_ 24 hours before attempting anything more strenuous than lying on a bed." Pausing briefly, Doctor Kekoa sighed again, and shook his head; he could already tell that Danny Williams was not one inclined to _rest _when there was work to be done. "Perhaps you can convince him that rest is vital after a head injury, but he seems inclined to ignore me, no matter what I say."

Chin nodded thoughtfully, knowing the importance of following the doctor's instructions - at least for the most part. After all, Steve wasn't the only one who studiously ignored the doctor's wishes when there was a case to solve. He was doubtful that he would be able to convince the stubborn man to obey the doctor's reasonable orders, but he would certainly give it a shot. "I'll do what I can," he promised, and then, his brow crinkling worriedly, asked tentatively, "You would happen to know anything about his partner, would you? Commander Steve Mcgarrett? He was brought in a few moments before Danny was."

The lines in the doctor's face deepened, and he frowned, scrubbing his hands over his face before returning his penetrating gaze to the younger man's face. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but as I said before, he was taken into surgery immediately, and there has been no further news. In fact," Doctor Kekoa glanced at his watch briefly, before tucking his hands back into his pockets and returning his gaze to Chin's anxious face, "it wouldn't surprise me if Commander Mcgarrett is in surgery for a good while longer. Depending on the severity of his injury, we might even have to go back in later to finish repairing the damage. He lost a lot of blood, and even with the blood transfusions, he might be too weak at this time."

He had expected as much, and, striving to keep his face blank and his voice steady, Chin nodded again, and held out his hand. "Thanks, doc. Thank you for everything."

Doctor Kekoa's grip was steady and reassuring and he clasped the offered hand and shook it firmly, compassion edged into every line of his features as he took in the Hawaiian native's wrinkled brow and tense posture. "You're welcome," he replied mildly, his eyes softening as he added, "You know, I have known Commander Mcgarrett for a good many years, and I have never met a stronger man in my life. He's in critical condition, but, as you know, he's no quitter. He won't go down without a fight."

"You're right," Chin readily agreed, releasing the doctor's hand and crossing his arms across his chest. "He's no quitter." Steve Mcgarrett was the strongest man Chin himself had ever met. And Chin had no doubt that the former SEAL was going to need every bit of his impressive strength and determination over the next few days.

"Now!" His eyes brightening, the careworn expression on Doctor Kekoa's face morphed into an easy smile, as he clasped his hands together lightly, and nodded his head in the direction he had come from a mere 10 minutes before, "I'm sure you're anxious to see Detective Williams, so I won't keep you here any longer. Remember, it is vital that he rest, so please try to keep it short."

Nodding, Chin fell in behind the doctor, easily matching the man's short, swift steps with his own long strides as they moved through what seemed like an endless maze of sterile, white halls and harsh florescent lights. Pulling his phone out of his pocket as he walked, he dialed Kono's number, but she didn't answer, and after leaving a brief voicemail, he asked a short, blond nurse at the nurse's station to inform his cousin of his whereabouts when she came back. He'd promised to inform her the moment he heard anything, and he didn't want to risk the chance of her missing his message.

As he followed the doctor's noiseless footsteps, Chin couldn't help but marvel at the bitter irony that filled every crack of their current circumstances. How, after all the time they had spent worrying over Danny - thanks to that horrifying photograph they'd received in the mail - they were now waiting with bated breath to hear news - any news - about _Steve's_ condition. By some miracle, they had found the two missing teammates with surprising ease, and - most importantly - the rescue hadn't ended with them bringing the partners home in body bags.

There was nothing more to do, for the time being. The rest was up to Steve.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: Ehh, being a writer_ **and** _a perfectionist stinks. That's the real reason this chapter is so late. Haha. Anywayyy. It didn't turn out how I wanted it to and I wasn't planning on dragging this out as much as I did, __but whatever. Next chapter, back to Danny and (maybe) Steve._ _We'll see. ;) Also,__ I should've mentioned this earlier, but you can find me on tumblr too __(link in my profile under the description - FF won't let me add it here). I mostly blog about H50 and / or anything else that strikes my fancy. Feel free to send me a note, future fic request, kick in the pants to hurry my writing along *wink* or just pop in and say hey! ;) As always, I would love to hear your thoughts and since this is un-beta'd, please feel free to point out any mistakes and / or grammatical errors. :D Thanks for reading, y'all! xx _


	18. Author Note

_Heyyy. Yup. It's me. No, I'm not dead. No, I didn't drop off the face of the planet. No, I didn't forget about this story - or all you wonderful people who make writing so worthwhile. What did happen, however, was LIFE. I'm serious. Life has been absolutely insane over the past year, really (has it really been over a year since I updated this?! *cringes*), and I have had NO time - or energy - to devote to writing fanfiction, as much as I want to. *sigh*_

_I honestly debated even posting this little update, because I know the 245 people who have followed this little story will get all excited when they see that "Not Again" has actually been updated after my terribly long period of silence, only to be disappointed when they discover that it's not an actual chapter, but just the author ranting and talking about random things; which is something I seem to do well. Heh. (And seriously. YOU GUYS. I'm flattered and blown away by how many people have devoted time to this O.o Wow. This community is incredible.) _

_Sooo. Yeah. This is me, checking in, letting you all know that I'm still alive, still writing, and am still planning to finish this eventually; I just don't know when. Thank you all for your incredible support and enthusiasm about this unplanned-fic-turned-novel-length-work-in-progress. Thank you for following, for favoriting, for reviewing, for reading. I'm so thankful for all you guys, and I really do hope to get back to this (and get it FINISHED, my gosh) before too awfully long. _

_Feel free to message me, nag me on my tumblr (mklaihai + dot + tumblr + dot + com) and just talk to me in general; I love hearing from y'all, and appreciate your thoughts more than you know. I hope life has been treating you well, and I'm REALLY hoping to have the next installment of "Not Again" posted before the world ends, as well as a few short one-shots - some for H50, perhaps for a few other fandoms as well. We'll see. (So, sometime over the next 50+ years. Or something. Ya know.) _

_Thank you for your continued patience, and dedication to this little fic. I honestly love you guys. I'll be back. ;)_

_xxx, Mklaihai _


End file.
